Under Different Circumstances
by fistfulsofwords
Summary: What would happen if Kensi and Deeks met under different circumstances? Kensi Blye, fresh off being left by her fiance, wants one thing: to get through her senior year of college drama-free, and without getting attached to anyone. When she meets a charming law student at a party, she can't help but feel stuck on him...or smitten, whatever.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic, so bear with me as I battle the ups and down of committing to something longer than a chapter. Reviews are totally welcome and will only motivate me to write more, so please tell me what you like and/or what I can work on. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles.

* * *

"Kensi Blye, you are going to this party," Monica said in exasperation "You can't get out of this one. It's the last weekend before classes start! It's like, sacrilegious if you don't."

Kensi sighed into her friend's pillow, which she was hugging to her chest. She watched Monica flit around the room, tossing various wisps of thin t-shirts and bedazzled jeans onto the floor in search of the _perfect_ outfit. "Parties are so boring," Kensi whined, "Everyone gets sloppy drunk and watching people make out in every possible corner is not my idea of fun. Neither is being felt up by every single guy who passes me. It's disgusting."

Now it was Monica's turn to sigh, "Kensi. It's our last year of college. You have to live a little! Going to classes, training at the base a few times a week, never going out, it's not healthy. Please come tonight. Please?" Monica pouted. It was quite a sight, the curvy brunette putting on her puppy-dog eyes while standing the in the doorway of her bathroom in just a bra and a pair of jeans, one eye done up in makeup, the eyeliner pencil poised at the corner of the other.

Kensi hugged the pillow tighter and watched her friend carefully. Ever since Jack had left, still less than a year ago, Kensi had been hesitant to participate in any social interaction, especially parties or clubs. She didn't want to forget her mistakes in some random guy on a dance floor. She wanted the pain to remind her of everything she'd done wrong. And a little part of her still believed he would come back. Monica understood this— she was the only person Kensi had confessed any of her feelings to—and she usually didn't push Kensi into anything she didn't want to do. That's not to say she hadn't told Kensi on multiple occasions that she was worried about her, and that it might be good for her to get out and meet other people. Kensi was stubborn, though, and Monica accepted that without question.

Monica finished her eyes, dark and smoky with a trained hand, not trashy like most of the girls who would be at the party. She turned and pointed the mascara bottle at Kensi, "Now, are you going to go put on one of those sexy dresses I know are tucked away in your closet, or do I have to force you into it?" Kensi laughed. Both girls were aware that Kensi was much stronger and could never be "forced" to do anything.

"If I go to this party, you can't force me to go to any more this year," Kensi conceded. Monica hopped excitedly and clapped her hands. Kensi held up a finger, "But I'm dressing myself." Monica's grin slipped a little and then she shrugged, the smile sliding easily back into place.

Kensi stood in her room in the apartment that she shared with Monica. She stared at the closet; boxes were still stacked in the corner from her moving in a few months ago. She'd stayed in her and Jack's place until the lease was up, and then Monica practically packed Kensi's stuff for her and moved her into the extra bedroom at her apartment. Now, Kensi still wasn't completely unpacked. A few things, like her father's uniforms and medals, she preferred to be kept safe. Others, like some of Jack's things that he'd left behind, she preferred to keep out of sight.

The closet had Kensi's small collection of clothes in it, including a few of the dresses Monica had mentioned. Kensi had specifically bought them to impress Jack. One of them she'd even planned on wearing on Christmas, but he'd left before he ever got to see it. Kensi took a deep breath and pushed the thought out of her mind at the same time she pushed the dress farther back into the closet. She would not think about Jack tonight. If she was going to get dressed up and go out with her best friend, she was going to try to have some fun. Instead of a dress, she chose a dark, slim-fitting pair of jeans and a loose, light blue t-shirt. Unlike Monica, Kensi liked to leave a little to the imagination, though she wasn't going tonight to pick up guys, so why should she be worried about that?

Although the idea of hooking up tonight was far out of her mind, Kensi slipped on a black, lacy pair of underwear and a matching bra. If she was going to do this, she was going to go all out. After putting her shirt and jeans on, Kensi stared in the mirror. She hadn't attempted to do anything with her hair in a few months, partly because the heat would just make it frizzy, but also because she didn't have the motivation to make herself look presentable. She had no one to look good for, anyway, and she had to tie it back for training, which was almost every day. Just now, her wavy ponytail swung between her shoulders blades and a few curls escaped and framed her face. She blew at one as it fell in her eye. She then pulled the elastic out of her hair and the unruly curls tumbled down her back. Monica came around the corner, looking perfect as always.

She eyed Kensi's outfit without a word, though her expression said she wasn't happy about the lack of sex appeal. She then saw Kensi's hair. "You're finally wearing it down," she said. She didn't have to say it, but Kensi knew the other girl was waiting for her to ask for help. Stubborn as she was, Kensi gave in.

"Will you help me?" She asked.

Monica smirked and turned Kensi around, steering her to the other bathroom, which housed Monica's arsenal of hair and makeup products. Deciding to just give in and let Monica have her night, Kensi allowed her to paint and perfect everything above the neck before they headed out into the night.

* * *

_"Marty, man, you've gotta come with me to this party. There's this girl and I really need a wingman tonight. So hit me up when you get this and let me know. Talk to you." _

Marty Deeks hung up on his voicemail and grinned at his phone. As much as he didn't want to go to an undergrad party, he couldn't begrudge Paul his girl, another in a long string in the search for _the one_. The men were nearing on 25 and Paul was determined to meet a beautiful, smart, successful girl to marry by the time he was 28 and starting up his own law firm. That was the plan, at least.

Paul and Deeks were the black sheep of the law program, known for their laid-back demeanors and not-so-prim appearances of shaggy hair and scruffy faces. They were also both at the top of the program, earning them more hatred from their fellow students. Whereas Deeks couldn't care less where he ended up—with girls, his career, or where he was living next year—Paul was a little more focused, and he felt he was destined to start a law firm with a loving wife on his arm at the ribbon cutting. And who was Deeks to hold his friend back from his dreams?

Chuckling, Deeks dialed Paul's number and listened to the ringing on the other end as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Marty," Paul sighed in relief into the line, "Dude, you have to help me out. I have no idea what to wear."

Deeks held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he twisted off the cap of the bottle and said, "You're such a girl, man. Wear what you usually wear."

He could just see Paul's shoulders slumping as the other man realized his confident friend was right. "Jeans and a button-up it is," he said. Deeks took a swig of his beer. It might do to get a little buzzed before going to a messy undergrad party where there would be eighteen year olds passing out in every conceivable location.

"When do you want to meet up?" Deeks asked. He heard the clanking of plastic on the other end as Paul looked through his closet.

"Party's on Hillard, so, knowing that neighborhood, say, eleven?" Paul answered.

"Sounds good," Deeks confirmed. The men said their goodbyes and hung up. Deeks finished off his beer and pulled another out the fridge. If Paul and this girl hit it off, it was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone! The positive feedback for this story has been overwhelming. Thank you! I haven't committed myself to anything as long as this in a while, and your kind reviews and encouragement, coupled with my absolute love of Densi, has given me more motivation to write than I know what to do with. I'm going to try putting myself on a schedule of updating every Sunday, so keep your eyes peeled for next week's chapter and you have permission to scold me if it's not up then.

I had a question or two regarding the ages of our characters: Deeks and Paul are 24/25, and finishing up law school. Kensi and Monica are 21, in their final year of their undergraduate degrees. Canonically, the year would be 2003, but I've used some creative license to modernize it a little bit.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

Kensi and Monica arrived to the party early; the house belonged to a friend of Monica's and she'd offered to help set up. After greeting the host, who Kensi knew only by acquaintance, they started to push furniture against the walls and stock the large buckets of ice that had been set out on the back deck. Kensi was checking the connections between the iPod dock and the large speakers that had been placed on the deck when a shadow blocked the small amount of light she was using to see.

"You want me to take a look at that?" A warm male voice said above her. Kensi turned and looked up at the guy standing over her. His dark hair flopped in his eyes and his smile was very white against his tan, clean shaven skin. Kensi couldn't deny that he was attractive, but he had also very obviously been staring at her butt a second before she caught his eye. She straightened up quickly.

"Nope," she said cheerfully," Everything looks good."

"You sure? I mean, those wires can be a little tricky if you don't know what you're doing."

Kensi prickled. She was perfectly aware of what she was doing and this guy's assumption that she was incapable of hooking up a sound system coupled with his very obvious roving eyes grated on her nerves. She smiled at him, ready to give him a pass. She opened her mouth to say that she was sure it was fine, but the guy had already bent down to check the connection himself.

"The AV cord has to be hooked into the dock itself," he said. Kensi put her hands on her hips and waited for him to be done. "You actually get a clearer sound and more bass if you…" He trailed off as he saw that Kensi had rewired the amp to do just that. He turned and looked at her as if seeing her the first time. "How'd you know how to do that?" He asked in amazement, and a little irritated.

Kensi shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not that hard."

The guy looked back at Kensi's handiwork and muttered, more to himself than to Kensi, "It took me weeks to figure that out."

Kensi tried to hide her smirk, and she was sure she would have started laughing at the guy's dumbfounded expression if Monica hadn't called her back inside. Kensi walked away, leaving the guy still crouched down by the speaker.

"Who was that?" Monica asked when Kensi met her at the back door of the house. "He's cute!"

Kensi shrugged and said, "Some guy who thought I couldn't hook up the speakers."

Monica smirked at her friend and said, "I'm guessing you showed him up." Kensi smiled, not having to affirm the other girl's assumption. Monica laughed and said, "You always leave them stunned, Blye."

Kensi laughed with her friend. The doorbell rang and music started to pump through the speakers. The host's girlfriend passed by with a tray full of shots, and Monica nabbed two and handed one to Kensi. "To senior year?"

"To senior year," Kensi said and the girls downed their shots. Kensi felt the burn in the back of her throat and the tiny buzz of alcohol as the first drink hit her system. It took a lot more than this to get her drunk, and she wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but a buzz never hurt, especially if it made her forget why she hated parties.

* * *

Deeks and Paul walked up the front sidewalk of the house. Music blared from every window and door of the two-story house, all of which were thrown wide open. Drunken students roamed up and down the sidewalks and street in varying degrees of inebriation; Greek row was the next street over and since it was the last weekend before classes started, it seemed every undergraduate was out to celebrate.

Paul was fidgeting slightly, flipping his phone between his fingers. He'd met this girl over the summer when she and her friends had come to the surf shop Paul worked at looking for lessons. Paul was enamored, and had told Deeks about their first lesson with him as her teacher a few dozen times. Any normal person would have been irritated at this point with Paul's crush on this girl, but Deeks just smiled at his friend and shook his head. He would have teased any other guy, maybe made a crude joke, but with Paul, Deeks was a different person. For as laid back as Paul was, he was as fragile and sensitive as Deeks was guarded, and teasing him about something as monumental as meeting a girl was to him was bound to hurt the guy.

Deeks couldn't always shelter his best friend, though, and he said what any wingman would have told his friend, "Chill, dude. Don't let her see you sweat."

Paul didn't acknowledge Deeks' words, but he stilled his hands, holding his phone firmly in one fist. The men reached the wide open front door just as a girl staggered out with a hand to her mouth. It was barely midnight, yet she pushed past them and proceeded to vomit in the bushes next to the front stoop. Deeks sighed again in resignation. _So it's going to be one of those kinds of parties_.

* * *

Two drinks held above the heads of partygoers, Kensi sidestepped her way through the throngs of drunken students to reach the back door and the blessedly fresh air. It was a warm night, and her hair was already starting to curl at her temples as a result of the humidity within the house. So much for Monica's products and heat appliances.

As she reached the back porch, Kensi looked around for Monica, but couldn't find her anywhere. A couple guys were screwing with their iPods over by the dock, having designated themselves the DJs for the night. They had figured out a way to mix songs from each iPod to create remixes, and they were actually pretty good.

A couple of girls, obviously underage and inexperienced with alcohol, were attempting to play beer pong, having been coerced into it by the host and his rather disgusting frat buddies. Their whoops and laughter filled up the space, leaving little room for other conversation.

People sat in the small backyard and on the back deck, all with drinks in their hands and some were smoking. Kensi hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It felt unhealthy just to watch the gray haze float through the air, visible against the colored string lights strung around the railings of the deck. Yet, for as much as she hated it, Kensi had never thought she might miss it. Jack had started smoking when he'd been in Afghanistan. He said it kept his nerves in check, and Kensi didn't argue with that, but she still hated that he did it. He never smoked in the house, but the smell still infiltrated all of his clothes, and Kensi had to tamp down on her irritation whenever she kissed him. When he'd left, and Kensi was still raw from grief, she would smell his clothes, desperate to hold on to him, even with a smell that made her want to vomit. She'd since stopped doing that, but the boxes in her closet still smelled faintly of cigarettes, and every time Kensi caught a whiff of it, she had to fight to keep the memories at bay.

Kensi took a deep breath and pushed back the onslaught of emotions. She finally spotted Monica at the bottom of the stairs. She was animatedly in conversation with a guy Kensi recognized from a forensics lab she had taken last semester. Drinks more firmly in hand now that she had room to move, Kensi descended the steps until she was right next to Monica. The other girl took her drink without looking away from the guy she was talking to. The guy, obviously not as involved in the conversation as Monica was, looked over at the new member of their party. He smiled when he saw Kensi, a normal reaction when guys saw her. Kensi found it irritable and little embarrassing. It wasn't her fault she had good genetics and she definitely didn't want to be noticed all the time. It made going about life a little more difficult, especially at the base, where the majority of the people she trained with were men.

"Hey," the guy said, interrupting Monica, much to her annoyance. When she saw Kensi, she rolled her eyes, knowing the effect the other girl had on men, and not begrudging her for it. The guy held out his hand, "I'm Derek."

Kensi shook his hand back briefly, "Kensi."

"We had a lab together, didn't we? Dr. Lipton?"

"I believe we did. I was just coming down to give Monica her drink and now I'm headed back up. It was nice to officially meet you," Kensi told Derek. She smiled at them both and walked away, catching Monica's grateful expression before she turned back to Derek, who was still watching Kensi. Monica picked up her conversation right where she left off and Kensi smiled at her friend's resilience with men, even if they weren't as interested as she was.

Kensi reached the top of the stairs and took a sip of her drink, looking around at the chaos that ensued. The house was full to its max, and the party spilled out into the street. Girls without their shoes clung to each other as they gripped their drinks and staggered in between the houses to Greek row. Some guys were playing beer pong on the hood of a car parked in the street. It was fully past midnight now, and Kensi could see the glow of Los Angeles in the distance against the dark sky. There were no stars visible; it was cloudy and humid, threatening to rain. She was sticky with sweat and spilled alcohol, and as irritating as that should have been, she really didn't care. Why bother if there was no one to impress?

* * *

Paul had yet to find his date, and Deeks was starting to feel the slight tinge of irritation at this girl. He hadn't really wanted to come to this party in the first place, but here he was, waiting to be wingman to his best friend who was seemingly being stood up. He held a beer in his hand, the condensation from the ice bucket the only thing cool in the otherwise stifling house.

He'd talked to a few girls, let them put their hands on his arm and giggle at his charm. He'd even danced with one, a blond petite thing named Olivia, who was just shy of drunk, but still aware of herself enough to not grind on him embarrassingly. Deeks had appreciated that. What he hadn't appreciated had been the fact that she was eighteen.

Now, another girl seemed to have spotted him and was headed his way. Determined not to have another clearly-out-of-high-school alcoholic hanging on him, Deeks made his way toward the back door of the house. He slipped in between tightly-packed people, and breathed in deeply when he reached the outside air. He took a swig of his beer and turned to find that his pursuer was nowhere to be found.

Smiling at his own small triumph, Deeks nearly ran into the girl who was leaning against the railing, watching the party that spilled out of the front side of the house. She looked up in surprise and took a step back. "Sorry," Deeks apologized sincerely. "Didn't see you there."

And he was surprised he hadn't. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than him, and lean. She looked like a supermodel, her legs going on for days and long, tapered fingers that wrapped around her cup. Her face was what sold him, though. She was beyond beautiful. Framed by dark curls, the sharp angles of her face threw shadows across her skin from the colored lights that wrapped around the deck. Her dark eyes were in shadow, but they were shaped exotically, the whites highlighted by the deep tan in her skin. Her eyes were guarded and a little surprised. They were strong, and Deeks knew that even if he was able to get her to flirt back, this girl was not one to be trifled with. She was intelligent, something a lot of the girls at this party were not, and she didn't take anybody's shit. He knew instantly that this girl was special, and not one to be passed up.

The girl stared back at him, her eyes becoming even more guarded the longer he looked at her. She started to back away, a look of wariness in her beautiful face.

"It's fine," she said shortly.

Momentarily forgetting why he had apologized, Deeks pulled himself together. He donned his most charming smile. "Sure I can't get you a drink to apologize?"

The girl raised an eyebrow and held up her plastic cup. "Got one already, thanks."

Deeks tamped down on the instinct to flirt outrageously, which usually worked for him. It wouldn't work on this woman, though, he knew.

"I can't get you a _good_ drink? I know I'm sick of warm, flat beer, and it seems to me you've been here longer, so you're probably more fed up than I am. I know a guy who lives here. He's a douche, but he has good liquor, and I know where he keeps it."

"You'd steal a guy's good alcohol?" She asked incredulously. But if Deeks wasn't mistaken, he did see a small glimmer of interest in her eyes.

"I'd say I'm collecting on a favor. I helped him pass Family Psychology," Deeks explained.

He watched her think it over, her brow furrowing as she contemplated the morality of the offer. As no-nonsense as she seemed, Deeks couldn't read her like her could most girls—or people, really. He had yet to figure out if she was a straight arrow or willing to let loose a little.

She proved to be the latter when she shrugged and said, "Sure." She held her hand out as if to say, lead the way, and Deeks did just that.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has followed and favorited this story! And the reviews are just so kind. I wish I could give you all hugs and cookies to show my appreciation. The best I can do, however, is give you another chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

Kensi was certainly not ready to get into anything with anybody right now. She just wanted to finish out her senior year and graduate without drama. It was simple and easy.

This guy was really just offering her a better drink than the stale keg-fed plastic cup in her hand. If he offered anything more, Kensi had no problem turning him down. He was undeniably good looking, and charming, yeah, but Kensi Blye was not the type of girl to fall for charm.

She mentally kicked herself. Why was she reminding herself of these things? She'd been repeating the rules to herself since Jack left: No boys. Focus on school, training, and spending time with friends before they all went their separate ways after graduation.

Yet Kensi followed the guy—she didn't know his name—through the throngs of coeds, all in some state of inebriation. Kensi noticed that the girls' eyes followed him through the crowd, unbeknownst to him. He was probably one of those guys that had one-night stands every weekend and left the girl without a number or another word. She knew the type. Before Jack, she _was_ the type. Now, well, she didn't know what type she was.

She didn't get a chance to figure it out, however, when a hand grasped her wrist, pulling her up short. Kensi turned, tensed to shake off some handsy guy, but it turned out to be Monica. "Kensi!" She exclaimed, stumbling a bit. Her sweaty hand circled Kensi's wrist, and her other hand was holding a red plastic cup, out of which liquid sloshed when she waved her arm in wide gesture. "Are you having fun?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Kensi looked over her shoulder for the guy, who had disappeared into the crowd.

She turned back to her friend. Monica was practically hanging on Kensi's arm and she leaned in close, her breath hot on Kensi's face. She whispered in Kensi's ear, "Jennifer's mad at me." She drew out the last syllable in a whine, making Kensi back away from the grating sound.

Kensi sighed, "Why is she mad at you?"

Monica huffed exasperatedly, "I don't _know_." She gestured wildly, spilling more of her drink. She looked down at her soaked hand and then into her cup. She drained the last of her drink, which Kensi now realized was definitely not beer, and threw the cup at a table a few feet away, missing it by quite a bit. Monica shrugged and then looked at Kensi. "She was yelling. It's not like I _wanted_ her boyfriend to grope me."

Kensi was starting to realize that Monica was not as drunk as she was acting. This was her MO: get slightly drunk, yet act wasted. Kensi had no idea why she acted this way, even though it had been like this since they met their first week of college. At first Kensi had thought it was meant to attract guys, but while Monica was undoubtedly boy-crazy, she had more dignity than that. And as close as they had grown over the past three years—nearly like sisters, to use the cliche—that was one thing Kensi just could not figure out about her friend.

As usual, Monica could tell that Kensi had figured out her act, and she rolled her eyes. But just because she wasn't plastered did not mean that she wasn't drunk. Monica stumbled a little when she backed away from Kensi. "She really is mad at me."

"But I thought you guys were just getting over the Adam thing."

Monica waved her hand dismissively, "You know Jen, she's always mad at me for something." She looked over her shoulder and then leaned in conspiratorially, "She's sleeping with Adam again, so I'm not surprised Landon is looking elsewhere, even though I'm totally not interested."

Kensi just smiled and shook her head at her friend. Monica laughed and then nudged Kensi. "How about you? How's your night going?"

Kensi shrugged.

"Oh, come on. I saw you with that surfer guy."

"It's not like that."

"Kensi! He's so hot! Why didn't you go for it?" Monica threw her hands out and almost hit a girl in the head. The girl gave her a dirty look and backed away with her friend. Monica didn't even notice.

"Because I'm not looking for anything right now. And because you grabbed me before he could show me where the real bar is."

Monica's smile slipped. "Oh, sorry."

Kensi raised any eyebrow.

"For not letting you get a decent drink," Monica clarified in mock irritation. "Look, I haven't tried to set you up with anyone since Jack because I respected that you need time to heal. But Kensi, it's a new school year. We're seniors! Why not try to get back into it? There is not a single guy on this campus who would say no to a date with you. Even the gay ones."

Kensi smiled slightly and shook her head. "I'm just not looking to start a relationship. Finish school, finish training-,"

"- and get the job," Monica finished for her. "I know. God. But can't you at least try dating?"

Kensi didn't want to have this conversation, especially at a packed house party. It was growing late, and while the party was still in full swing, Kensi was getting tired. "Monica," she started.

"Fine…okay, whatever," the other girl conceded. She looked around at the party and then back at Kensi. "You ready to go? This is ridiculous; I don't know how the freshmen find out about these things. It's not like they know anybody."

"I'd bet Landon and his buddies invited them," Kensi said. Monica snorted at that and turned, grabbing Kensi's hand as they wove their way through the crowd.

As they left the house, Kensi looked behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the scruffy blond mop of hair, but only seeing a mass of teased and highlighted heads instead.

* * *

He'd lost the girl a while ago. She'd melded into the crowd, something he wouldn't think would be easy for someone like her, but she just kept surprising him. _The biggest surprise would be if I knew her name_, Deeks thought wryly to himself.

Deeks' phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out. Paul's name flashed across the screen, and a little envelope told him he had a text message.

_Where are you?_

Deeks was in the kitchen, and he told Paul so. A few minutes later, Paul appeared in the kitchen, looking glum.

"She's not here."

Deeks patted his friend on the back, "I'm sorry, man."

Paul sighed. "The thing is, I thought this one was for real. We had so much in common, you know? And it was so easy to talk to her…"

Deeks just nodded. He was used to riding the waves of Paul's near-misses with women. He was consistently being stood up, for seemingly no other reason than he was a nice guy. Girls usually met him at the surf shack, thinking he was cool and laid back. And he was, when he was in his element near the water. But when he got around to actually asking a girl out, Paul was so nervous and such a nice guy that girls either got scared off or they realized he wasn't the chill surfer guy they thought he would be. It was beyond irritating. Deeks just wish they would see Paul for who he really was: a sensitive, ambitious guy who just wanted a little love in his life. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

Deeks really didn't want the answer to that question. It was too insulting to Paul.

"You'll find her one day. This just wasn't the right one," Deeks consoled his friend.

"Yeah, I guess," Paul replied, a grimace pulling its way onto his face. "Do you just wanna go home? This party's really lame."

"I couldn't agree more," Deeks answered.

* * *

The first day of classes dawned bright, hot, and humid. Kensi, however, woke up far earlier than the sun was supposed to rise. She was drenched in sweat, even with the window wide open and fan pointed at her bed on full blast. It didn't help that she'd had another nightmare.

After her dad had died, Kensi didn't sleep a full night for almost a year, imagining various ways that the car wreck could have happened, and then dreaming about them. She was torturing herself, and her therapist told her so, after CPS found her living on the streets and sent her to live with friends of her dad's. After she assimilated into their family, had a good bed to sleep in, and was well fed, the dreams started to fade. They went away completely once she met Jack, and came back when he left on tour, but this time, she was imagining Jack's death instead of her father's. And then he left, and Kensi went through a bout of insomnia during the spring semester, unable to sleep because she became so afraid of the force of the dreams that she wouldn't sleep. They were only just starting to fade again, but tonight—or this morning, she guessed—something must have triggered it. Probably the alcohol, Kensi reasoned.

She decided not to go back to sleep, deeming it too futile in the heat and her state of mind. Instead, she dressed in her workout clothes, scarfed down a banana, left a note for Monica, and drove down to the beach for a run.

When Kensi was younger, and her dad was still alive, they'd moved around a lot, as most armed forces families did. They'd stayed on the west coast though, to stick close to her dad's tactical team, Kensi guessed. Regardless of where they ended up, there was always water. Kensi took comfort in the ocean being so close; it meant she was somehow close to home, close to him. Her dad loved the water, and he'd taken every opportunity possible to take Kensi to the beach when she was young. She'd learned to swim in the waves of the Pacific, and their house at Pendleton had been on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was Kensi's favorite house they'd lived in for that very reason. It was also the happiest her parents had been, so there was that, too.

When she took to the streets, Kensi stayed close to water. It was too easy to get lost in the city and caught up in the politics of gangs and cartels. And then CPS found her and sent her to the other side of the mountains, and Kensi felt boxed in by land, unable to escape. That's why she had chosen this school that was so close to the ocean: As transient as water was, it was Kensi's anchor.

Now, she pulled into the parking lot at the beach. It was mostly empty, except for a few early morning surfers, their towels littering the sand. It was still dark, though thin tendrils of light were starting to come up over the mountains. It would be even hotter once the sun came up, Kensi realized. The only light on the beach came from the surf shack at the north end of the sand. Kensi thought she remembered that they served coffee to the surfers, and made an amazing smoothie.

She dropped her towel and water in the sand and started to stretch. Her hair was already sticking to her neck and face, and Kensi readjusted her headband. She ran and did drills for nearly an hour before the heat became too much. The sand was sticking to her arms and legs; not an inch of her body wasn't slick with sweat. She wiped a hand across her forehead and felt the grittiness of the sand cling to her face.

Kensi still had an hour or two before her first class, but she decided it was probably time to be getting back. The water looked so inviting, though, so she took off her shoes and waded in, the cool wetness drawing her body temperature down a little. She was up to her knees when she looked out over the waves. A few guys were surfing in the early September waves. It wouldn't be too long before the waves were at their highest, the Santa Anas spurring them on, and making the beach crazy busy in the mornings.

Kensi sighed. She liked the beach quiet, with her and the few hardcore guys who surfed every morning. The beach bunnies and wannabes always came out in the fall, thinking they could take advantage of the benefits of the high waves, whether it be for surfing practice or "working out", which was more like taking stock of the half-naked guys in the water.

Kensi waded back to the sand and walked barefoot up the beach towards the surf shack. She'd decided to treat herself to a smoothie, since it was so hot. That, and she just wasn't ready to leave yet.

She always felt closer to her dad when she was at the beach. Kensi didn't believe in spirits and higher beings, but his memory just felt stronger with the salt-tinged breeze blowing her hair out of her face. It felt like he was with her, if that was possible. And today especially—her first day of the last year of college—it felt significant, and like something she would want to share with him, if he was still alive.

When Kensi approached the surf shack, the guy behind the counter had his back turned, his wild hair was haloed by the light behind him. The beach was still clinging to night, the gray light only just started to bring out the colors in things, so the shack was still the brightly lit.

"Hey," Kensi greeted the oblivious employee. He turned, startled.

"Hey. Sorry. Didn't see you there," the guy replied. He was scruffy, the surfer type, obviously. But his open face didn't mark him as the pretentious "dude, that's so rad" SoCal guys. He seemed too nice for that. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you guys still have those smoothies? The lime and raspberry ones?"

He smiled an easy, shy smile. "Of course. What size?"

"Medium, please."

"Coming right up." The guy turned and began throwing ingredients in the blender. He turned back to her, "Milk?"

Kensi scrunched her nose. "No, thanks."

The guy started the blender and looked out across the waves, watching the surfers for a few moments before her turned off the machine and poured it into a plastic cup with a cap on it. He handed it to Kensi, who patted herself down before realizing she didn't have her wallet.

"Shoot, I left my money in the car. Be right back," she told him. She took off across the sand, jogging lightly. After retrieving her wallet, she slowed her pace, walking back. She noticed that a surfer had come up to the shack and he and the guy behind the counter were having an animated conversation.

* * *

"Hey," Deeks greeted Paul, coming out of the water with his board still strapped to his ankle. His hair flopped wetly into his eyes and Deeks shook it out of his face.

"Hey," Paul said. He stood up and turned away from putting something in the fridge. "Good waves?"

Deeks unstrapped his board and leaned it against the shack. He unzipped his wetsuit and peeled it down to his waist, all the while saying, "Yeah. They'll get better over the month though. Wait until the winds come in. Think they'll get as big as last year?"

Paul seemed distracted when he said, "Maybe."

"What's up?"

"Did you see that girl?" Paul asked immediately, the words bursting out of him.

"What girl?"

"The one who was just here. She's getting money for her smoothie. She'll be back in a minute."

Deeks grinned, "Wow, you moved on fast."

Paul colored slightly. "She's not like the one from last night, Marty. This one's amazing. Sexiest woman I've ever seen."

"Since when do you put the most stock in sexiness?" Deeks asked teasingly. He reached across the counter and helped himself to the coffeepot and a cup. He poured himself the drink and took a sip.

"I don't," Paul retorted. "That's just the first impression. Hey, she's coming back."

He nodded over Deeks' shoulder and Deeks turned to look, but Paul grabbed him and said, "Don't look! She'll think we're talking about her."

"We a_re _talking about her," Deeks pointed out, but he did as his friend said.

"Talk me up?" Paul asked quietly and desperately. His usual ease was again being disrupted by spotting a girl. Deeks caught himself from telling the other man to chill, and he nodded instead.

"And Marty? Tone down on the charm, okay? I think I might actually have a shot with this one," Paul said even more quietly. Deeks raised an eyebrow at him, but Paul didn't even notice. He was smiling over Deeks' shoulder.

Deeks turned and there she was. The girl from the party. She was wearing running clothes. Shorts bared her long, athletic legs, and she wore a loose gray t-shirt with USMC emblazoned on the front. Her hair was falling messily out of her ponytail and sticking to her face in the heat, despite the slight breeze coming off the water. Her cheeks were flushed in a post work-out rush. She looked even more beautiful than she did last night.

She came up, recognition lighting in her eyes when she saw Deeks.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," she replied.

They looked at each other for a moment before Paul piped up. "Do you know each other?"

The girl shook her head, shrugged, and came closer. "Not exactly," she said, handing a few bills to Paul. He turned and grabbed her smoothie from the fridge. He put it on the counter and the girl slid it toward her. Paul watched her all the while, Deeks noticed. Man, he had it bad. _Well_, he conceded, _he'd be blind not to._

"We met at a party last night," she explained, seemingly oblivious to Paul's gaze. She turned toward Deeks. "And I never got your name. Kensi Blye," she said, holding out her hand.

_Kensi._ "Marty Deeks," Deeks said, shaking her hand. "Nice to finally meet you," he said, grinning.

He looked over her shoulder at Paul, who was frowning.

"Sorry about leaving you hanging last night," Kensi said. Paul's frown deepened. "I got held up."

Deeks shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He looked at Paul again. "Hey, have you met my buddy Paul?"

Kensi turned to Paul. She smiled at him, a dazzling smile. It nearly knocked Deeks over and he wasn't even the one it was directed at. Paul was floored. Deeks watched the infatuation become even more embedded in his friend's mind and grimaced slightly.

"Hey, Paul. Kensi," she held her hand out and Paul shook it wordlessly, though he smiled. "Thanks for the smoothie."

"Uh, yeah. No problem," Paul answered. He was trying too hard to be conversational, Deeks noticed. "Do you come here often?" Deeks cringed internally.

Kensi raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly. "No. Not too much. Busy, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Do you go to the university?"

Kensi nodded. Deeks couldn't tell if his friend knew how uncomfortable this conversation was, or if he was still trying out of desperation. Either way, it was incredibly awkward.

But Paul continued. "Us too. We're at the law school. How about you?"

Kensi glanced at her watch, which did not go unnoticed by Paul. His eager attempt at conversation had obviously gone stale. "Um, forensics and criminology," Kensi answered, still looking at her watch. She looked up and said,"Speaking of, I am going to be late to my first class if I don't head back now."

Kensi turned her dazzling smile on Paul and Deeks and said, "It was nice to meet you. Both of you. Thanks again for the smoothie." She said this last part to Paul and then jogged across the sand toward the parking lot, leaving both men staring after her.

* * *

I sense some discontent forming between Paul and Deeks! Check back next Sunday to see what happens!

Please continue to review. This is all a big learning experience for me, so critiques are very helpful for me to write what you, the readers, want to read. Kind words are always motivating, as well!


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, everyone! I hope your week has gone well. Mine has been super busy, what with school, work, and summer job interviews, but I still did my best to make time for writing. This chapter is the last of the introductory chapters; I hope to get the actual plot off and running in next week's installment, so stay tuned!

Enjoy, and don't forget to favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

Paul immediately whirled on Deeks. "What the hell? You know her?"

Deeks sat down on one of the stools at the counter and refilled his coffee. "It's like she said: sort of. We met at that party last night. I offered her a drink that wasn't gross beer, and then she got held up by something and I didn't see her again." He looked at his friend apologetically. "I didn't think I'd ever see her again, much less here."

Paul sat down on a stool on his side of the counter, looking defeated. He put his head in his hands and mumbled, "Now that she's seen you, I might as well not exist."

Deeks groaned, "Come on, man. You have to stop thinking that way. There is no way that girl was going to hook up with me last night. Maybe you actually have a shot."

Paul shook his head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you'd met a girl like _that_."

"Like I said, I didn't think I'd ever see her again."

Another surfer came up to the counter—a regular—and Paul stood up to make his coffee. All three men kept quiet, and the only sound was the whir of the coffee grinder and the rush of the waves coming in. The calls of seagulls punctuated the silence.

After the surfer had left with his coffee and a murmured 'thanks', Paul spoke again. "You really think I have a chance?" He asked hopefully.

Deeks nodded, knowing he was a good liar and hating himself for it. He'd take all the blame on himself if Paul got hurt pursuing this girl. Kensi.

"Yeah, but dude, you need to work on your conversational skills. That was the most awkward thing I've ever witnessed," Deeks said with a small grin, trying to break the tension between them.

Paul scratched the back of his head a laughed softly. "Yeah…it was, wasn't it? She just made me so nervous."

"Don't let her see you sweat," Deeks repeated his line from last night. Paul nodded, seemingly committing this motto to memory.

"That is if you ever see her again," Deeks added. He knew it wasn't encouraging, but part of him—the selfish part—really didn't want this girl slip through his fingers.

Paul waved this away, his confidence returning as the lights inside the shack turned off automatically as the sun finally cleared the mountains. "We go to the same school. I'll see her again."

Deeks only smiled in encouragement, hating himself even more.

* * *

Kensi parked on the street in front of her apartment building and got out of her car. The sun was blindingly bright and reflected across the water. Even as high up as she was—the apartment was built on one side of a slope of road, the other dropped steeply down to the water—the reflection hurt Kensi's eyes. God, it was hot. The car's thermometer had said it was nearly a hundred degrees, not entirely unusual for Southern California, but the humidity was making it so much worse. They'd be getting rain soon, Kensi thought, but the mountains were obviously keeping the clouds from moving in.

Kensi took the steps to her and Monica's apartment. She still had a third of her smoothie left and the condensation from the cool drink was making the plastic cup slick. She fumbled with her keys at the door and dropped the cup. The pink liquid splatted out of the cup as it hit the floor, spreading across the tile. Kensi sighed in exasperation. She forced the door open—it tended to stick on the frame—and dropped her keys in the bowl by the door on her way to the kitchen.

"Hey!" Monica called from her bathroom. "How was your workout?"

"Good," Kensi called back. "It's too hot outside." She grabbed some paper towel off the counter and headed back to the door.

Monica stuck her head out of the bathroom door. Half of her head was a mess of curls, and the other half looked like she'd attempted to straighten it, but had failed miserably. It was starting to crimp up again. "You're telling me. This humidity is ridiculous."

Kensi stifled a laugh at Monica's hair, earning a glare from the other girl. She pulled back into the bathroom and Kensi heard the spritz of a bottle, presumably Monica spraying more product into her hair. Kensi, having a similar hair texture, knew it wouldn't work.

She stepped out into the hall and knelt down, mopping up the mess of melted smoothie on the floor. She really did not have time for this. Her stop at the surf shack had cost her more time than she thought she had, and now she would be scrambling to shower and eat. Not a good way to start the first day of classes.

She did her best, but the floor would probably be sticky until maintenance cleaned it up. Kensi stood up and shook her head at the floor. She already knew it was going to be one of _those_ days.

Kensi hurriedly threw away the paper towel and rushed into her bathroom. She turned on the shower and let it warm up while she peeled off her sweaty, sandy clothes. She shook her hair out of the ponytail and stepped in, the still-cool water making her shiver for a second as it hit her flushed skin.

Kensi showered and thought about how weirdly coincidental it had been that she'd run into that guy at the beach. Marty, and his shy friend Paul. If she told Monica about the encounter, she already knew the girl's response: "It's gotta be fate." Monica loved love stories. She was as pragmatic as Kensi, knowing that soul mates probably didn't exist and love at first sight was pretty much a myth. But she liked the idea of romance, and a chance meeting like this would send her through the roof, only half teasing in her sappy, romantic comedy quips.

Kensi laughed to herself, and for the second time today, thought about the significance that the day held. This time next year, she and Monica would probably be living in other places, working on different careers, only keeping in touch over emails, phone calls, and meetings over coffee. Kensi could already feel all of it slipping away, losing her best friend to the 'real life' that lay beyond college, and it saddened her.

It also terrified her. What would she do without Monica there to fill the silences or make her laugh when the memories started to creep in? Would she be able to cope?

_No_, Kensi thought as she shut off the water. _Stop thinking about that. There's still a whole year to worry about that._

She dried off, or attempted to anyway. The humidity in the air almost seemed to cement the moisture from the shower onto Kensi's skin. She stood in front of the fan in her room and when she was as dry as she was going to get, Kensi threw on a pair of jean shorts and a loose tank top that she vaguely remembered borrowing from Monica quite a while back. Kensi liked it because it didn't cling to her every curve. Monica had bought it because it did, at least in the breast area, and then realized very quickly that it brought on the wrong kind of attention—the kind girls get from older professors and hormonal, perverted teenagers—so she had handed it off to Kensi, who, with a smaller chest, was not in danger of being objectified.

Once she was dressed, Kensi grabbed her backpack and headed out to the conjoined kitchen and living area. Monica had apparently given up on her hair. It was now teased into a high ponytail and she had weighed it down with enough product that the curls looked sleek and loose rather than frizzy. She looked put-together, as always.

Kensi laughed, though, when she realized Monica was also wearing something borrowed. This time, it was from Kensi's closet. It was a long tunic top. At least, on Kensi, it was. On Monica's shorter frame, it made a sort of dress, though she was wearing shorts underneath, the hems only just visible as she raised her arms to open a cupboard in the kitchen.

"What-," Monica started incredulously, but as she turned around, she laughed too. Still smiling, she said, "Hey, whatever works, right?"

Kensi set her backpack down and shrugged, "It looks better on you anyway."

"Likewise." The girls grinned at each other. "Hey, last first day," Monica said brightly, returning to making her coffee. She couldn't live without the stuff.

Kensi's smile faltered. "Yeah. I can't believe how quickly it's flown by."

Monica looked up, sadness tinging her expression. "I know. It's like yesterday we were at that stupid party on the beach and you nearly murdered me."

Kensi giggled. "You were asking for it. Good thing Jack didn't flirt back or I would have murdered both of you," she teased.

"What can I say? I was drunk and naïve. Not a good combination." Monica finished with her coffee and poured it into a travel mug, topping it off with creamer and sugar. "And you can thank me for testing him out. You got piece of mind and a best friend out of the deal." Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand when she saw Kensi's face, immediately realizing what she had said.

"Oh, my god, Kens, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Kensi tried to act nonchalant, waving off her friend's apologies and looking down to fiddle with her backpack to hide how she needed to take a few deep breaths. _Piece of mind_. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're obviously not fine, and I'm an asshole." Monica came around the counter to stand next to Kensi, who was still focused on the zipper on her backpack.

Kensi finally looked at her friend, trying to keep her breathing even and her emotion under control. "No, you're not. And I _am_ fine. I just need a second, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, that's okay. Just, you know, I'm sorry. I really need to work on thinking before speaking." Monica stammered. She never stammered, never got nervous. And she rarely walked on eggshells around Kensi. Only with Jack. Everyone was nervous about bringing up Jack. At times, Kensi appreciated that they wanted to respect her feelings, but other times, she just wanted them to say what they were thinking.

Monica hovered nervously for a moment, fidgeting in a very un-Monica-like way, before heading back to the kitchen.

The words had hit Kensi in the chest, winding her. She had absolutely no piece of mind. She'd thought she did. Meeting Jack had been like a breath of air after years of drowning in her grief over her dad. She felt safe with him, and then he'd proposed, and everything felt right and like it was going to stay that way. Now, Kensi didn't believe in loyalty. Even Monica would be leaving her soon.

_God, Kens, stop. It's only the first day. _

Kensi took a deep breath and set her shoulders. Normally, she'd paste her brightest smile on, but Monica would see right through it. Instead, Kensi went around the counter and stood next to Monica, slotting two halves of a bagel into the toaster as she did.

Monica looked over at her. "Good?"

"Yeah."

"Good. When's your first class?" Monica was good at changing the subject, and knowing when to leave it alone. Psychology degrees did wonders. Or maybe that was just Monica.

Kensi looked at her watch. "Shit. I'm gonna be late."

She pushed the lever on the toaster up, popping out the not quite toasted bagel and hurriedly smothering peanut butter on it. She grabbed a paper towel and wrapped up the two halves of bagel, rushing around the counter to grab her bag.

"Need a ride?" she asked Monica.

Monica was already grabbing her bag and coffee.

They stopped for a second in the hallway so Monica could lock the door. Kensi backed out of her way and felt her sandal stick to the ground. She pulled it up and looked down at the pinkish stain on the tile, hoping maintenance would be in to clean it up before the end of the day; it was bound to attract ants.

"You ready?" Monica asked.

Kensi smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the last first day of life as she had known it.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is a few days late, but midterms are next week and I've been swamped with schoolwork, which, unfortunately, has to come before anything fun like writing. That aside, I'm really excited to start getting into the meat of the story and developing the relationships a bit more, so please enjoy and don't forget to favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

Kensi was indeed late to her first class. Luckily, she knew the professor, and he only gave her a raised eyebrow before continuing his talk about the syllabus.

She had an hour and a half break between her morning classes and her afternoon lab. There were a handful of food trucks that took up residence on campus during lunch time, and Kensi chose one and ordered a chicken wrap. On impulse, she grabbed a chocolate bar at the register and threw that in her bag as well. Her junk-food jones had tripled in the last year, returning in full force now that she didn't have Jack and his regimented military diet to stick to. It's not like she was unhealthy or anything—she trained almost every day—but she did have a bit of a sweet tooth. It _was_ nice not having someone make her feel bad about it, she guessed. Monica's love for sweets was even worse than Kensi's, if that were possible.

Kensi found a picnic table in the shade of a large tree in the middle of the quad. Academic buildings surrounded the area on three sides. The fourth side was bordered by a street similar to the one Kensi and Monica's apartment was on. The school was situated on a cliff looking out over the ocean. Even though it was far too hot to be spending any period of time outside, Kensi enjoyed watching the water while she ate. It wasn't so bad in the shade, though the humidity was increasingly uncomfortable.

When Kensi was finished, she still had a good hour before her lab was due to start. She opened up her backpack and pulled out the application she'd been working on for NCIS training. It wasn't due for about 8 weeks, but Kensi wanted to finish it and send it in as quickly as possible. The quicker it got into the hands of someone important, the quicker she could be accepted. And this wasn't even the actual job; it was just the training course. She would still have to finish that before she even thought about working as an agent.

The application was taking longer to do than she expected, though. Yes, it was a thick packet of information, background checks, and a number of reference forms, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Kensi had to hide it away whenever anyone came within reading distance. She didn't know why she was keeping it a secret—she'd made it very obvious she was going into a law enforcement career—but even her surrogate family was unaware. And God forbid Monica find out about it. Kensi shared nearly everything with her best friend, but she was afraid of Monica's reaction to this.

Monica was protective of Kensi, even before everything happened with Jack. She was fiercely protective of her friends in general, but Monica's maternal side came out whenever Kensi needed advice or was searching for her next thrill chase. When Kensi told her that she was taking a defensive driving course—meant to enable her to avoid a collision were she to lose control of the car—Monica flipped, claiming it was reckless and unnecessary. Her practicality balanced out Kensi's impulsiveness. Kensi thought she'd make a great cop, but Monica preferred to stick to Psychology, hoping to become a defense lawyer. She said she preferred to uphold the law without guns and car chases. Kensi was totally fine with that, but it was still why she wouldn't tell her she wanted to be a federal agent.

Kensi was in the process of filling out her family history, struggling to come up with everything she remembered about her mom, when a voice over her shoulder made her jump and cover the page with her arm.

"It's a bit early to be applying for summer jobs, isn't it?"

Kensi looked up and saw that it was none other than Marty Deeks. Instead of being half clad in his wetsuit (Kensi had done her best to studiously ignore this at the beach earlier. It didn't keep her from enjoying it, though), he was wearing shorts and flip flops. His white t-shirt highlighted his deep tan and white grin.

Kensi flipped the packet over and said, "Not a summer job. Just paperwork for graduation."

Deeks sat down across the table from her. "Still a little early though."

"You can never finish too early," Kensi replied cheerfully.

Deeks raised an eyebrow and said, "I can think of a few instances where that's not quite true." He grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows.

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Really?" She asked in distaste.

He laughed easily and then pointed at her arm. "Sorry."

Kensi looked down and noticed that there was a line of black on her forearm. She must have drawn on herself when he'd startled her.

"It's fine," Kensi said. She licked her finger and started rubbing at it. The ink only smeared. The humidity did not make it any better, she was sure.

Kensi sighed at it and looked up at him. He was watching her with a strange expression on his face. "What?"

* * *

Deeks had seen her and reacted instantly. He was a friendly guy, and stopping to say hi to someone he knew was natural to him. It was like breathing, really. And there she was, sitting at a picnic table with her head bent over a pack of papers, chewing on the end of her pen. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder, leaving the top of her back bare where the tank top didn't cover. She was even tanner than he was, and her muscles slid underneath her bronzed shoulders when she moved to write something.

Of course he would stop to talk to her. He had to.

And of course, he was too damn friendly for his own good. Or, should he say, Paul's good.

"What?" She asked. He'd been watching her rub away at the mark on her arm that her pen had left when she'd jumped.

_Reel it in, Deeks. _

"It probably won't come off in this heat," he said. He grit his teeth together at how lame that was.

She laughed shortly, "Uh, yeah, I noticed. Don't worry about it. It's my fault I lost control of my own pen." She smiled. It wasn't the bright, friendly smile from earlier in the day. It was sweet…almost. Deeks thought she might protest to being called "sweet".

Regardless of whatever it was, it sent Deeks reeling. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"So, graduation. You're a senior."

"Yep."

"With forensics and criminology, you're going into law enforcement?"

"Something like that."

"Like what?"

"A cop. Sort of."

"You? A cop?"

She looked affronted, and her eyes instantly hardened as she leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Deeks gestured at her, "I honestly pegged you more as the model-dancer type, but was thinking probably law with your degree. Paralegal?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a glare that burned through him. It was meant to make him back down, but Deeks never backed down. He was a lawyer—almost—after all.

"Do you think people are going to take you seriously looking like that?" He asked, firing back his own judgmental stare. He realized just how deep a hole he was digging, and he was slipping down the side of it quickly. Her expression had hardened into stone.

"What is your problem?" She started packing her papers away, a gigantic stack of them that looked nothing like graduation paperwork.

"Wait. Come on, I was teasing," Deeks lied. He wasn't teasing, it was more like being intentionally mean. What it was, actually, was beyond complicated. He really didn't want to make this girl not like him, but he also wanted to help out Paul. But Deeks didn't know how to do that without being rude. Now he was sitting at the bottom of the hole, scrambling for something to help him climb back up. There was nothing, and she definitely wasn't going to help him.

She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, if that's what you call teasing, I wonder how you even have friends."

She stood up and turned to walk away, but ran straight into Paul, who held out his hands to steady her. She instantly stepped away, avoiding his touch.

"Hey," Paul said slowly, assessing the tense situation. "What's going on?"

"I was just leaving, actually," Kensi snapped, glaring at Deeks. She hitched her bag over her shoulder and started off across the quad.

Paul looked after her and then stared at Deeks. "What was that?"

Deeks stood and braced his hands on top of the picnic table. A splinter of wood jabbed into his palm. "Start yelling at me." _Might as well make this work in Paul's favor_.

"What? Why? What'd you say to her?"

"Does it matter? Just stick up for her. Loudly, so she can hear you from over there," Deeks said quietly, nodding in the direction Kensi had gone. She had stopped in front of one of the buildings and was talking to another girl. The shorter, curvier brunette kept glancing in Deeks and Paul's direction while Kensi presumably told her what had happened, her arms crossed and her back to the quad.

Paul took a breath and set his shoulders. He had never been a good liar, and his physical preparation almost made Deeks laugh. Almost.

"What the hell, man?" Paul burst out, waving his hands. "Why would you say that?" It was a little exuberant, and in another situation, Deeks might have found Paul's theatrics funny.

Instead, Deeks decided to play the guilty friend, as if he wasn't guilty enough already. He didn't want Kensi to think was a _terrible_ person. "Look man, I don't know. You don't think she looks more like a model than a cop?"

Paul's eyes widened in surprise at this information, but only for an instant before he continued his act. "Why does that matter? Criticizing someone for their career choice is low, Marty, even for you." He was well and truly loud now, attracting the attention of people around the quad. The most important set of eyes was still averted, but her friend was riveted.

Deeks gave his friend a look, narrowing his eyes slightly, but they could talk about the last part of that accusation later. "Don't tell me you don't agree."

"That's not important! God, Marty, get your shit together." Paul seemed truly angry now, as if he had taken everything Deeks had said personally. His eyes were bright with anger, and his voice carried across the quad. And it had finally reached ignorant ears. Or the ears of someone who just couldn't resist.

Kensi's friend was dragging her across the quad toward the men. Kensi was rolling her eyes, but her friend was determined.

There was quite an audience now, Deeks noticed. It was a passing period between classes and people were stopped in groups to watch the drama that was ensuing.

"Monica, stop, this isn't high school," Kensi was complaining. She looked around at the people and said more quietly, "You're making a scene."

Her friend pulled her underneath the tree and stopped them both short. "Surfer boy," she pointed at Deeks, "apologize to Kensi." She gestured between the two. Then she looked at Paul, "Other surfer boy, thanks for sticking up for my friend."

Paul nodded in bewilderment, looking almost afraid of her. Deeks looked at Kensi, who was studiously ignoring him. He didn't really know what to say. Apologizing would be backing down, which he desperately wanted to do, but he also wanted to help out his friend, who so desperately wanted this girl to like him that he'd gone on about her long after she'd left the beach that morning.

Deeks squinted into the sun and then looked back down at Kensi. She wasn't looking at him, but the expectation was clear on her face.

"Dude," Paul prompted.

"Sorry," Deeks said shortly. He wanted to tell her more, but his audience kept him from doing so. "It was inappropriate, what I said."

"You seem to have a habit of saying inappropriate things," Kensi said coolly.

"You're right about that," Paul piped up.

Kensi turned to him, "You didn't have to stick up for me. But thanks." She didn't smile. She barely acknowledged the chivalrous act that Paul had put on for her. She looked at her watch and said, "I have to go to class. I'll see you later?" This last part she addressed to her friend. The other girl nodded and Kensi left without another word, leaving a strange silence behind her.

Her friend was the first to speak. "Monica," she said confidently, holding out her hand to Paul.

"I'm Paul," Paul said, shaking her hand. She smiled at him. It was a genuine smile, not the bright, over-friendly kind that Kensi had given him upon introduction.

"Marty Deeks," Deeks said. Monica didn't make a move to shake his hand. She did, however, give him an appraising look, sweeping him up and down with her eyes.

"You were with Kensi at the party," she said. It wasn't a question.

"That's right," he answered anyway.

"She seemed pretty okay with you there. What'd you say to her?"

"I'd rather not repeat it. I feel bad enough already," Deeks answered. He exhaled and shook his head. "I really am sorry."

Monica held up her hands, "Don't tell _me_. Tell it to her." She shouldered her bag and turned to walk away. She looked over her shoulder at Paul and said, "It was nice to meet you." And then she walked away.

"Marty," Paul groaned.

Deeks looked at his friend accusingly, "'That's low, even for you'? What was that supposed to mean?"

"Don't turn this around on me. What you said to her was wrong," Paul argued.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect a false insult in the process," Deeks shot back.

Paul started to back down and look guilty. He was non-confrontational to the point of meekness sometimes. He gave in so easily and usually Deeks just sighed and left his arguments at this point, because making Paul feel guilty was not what he was aiming for, but this time, Deeks was so frustrated with himself and the situation that he kept going. "I just insulted a beautiful girl for you so that I would look bad and she'd actually give you a glance. The least you can say is thanks."

Paul's eyes narrowed and his face hardened, but his need for peace won out and he kept quiet. The hurt in his face was obvious though, and Deeks felt even worse than he had a few minutes ago.

"I have to go," Paul finally said. He turned and left Deeks standing alone in the middle of the quad.

* * *

Kensi and Monica didn't see each other for the rest of the day. Monica worked evenings, and Kensi drove down to Pendleton for training every afternoon, and neither made it home until after 8 most nights. It was usually later for Kensi because of the long drive.

Kensi got out of her car and the humidity slammed into her, instantly making her air conditioned skin clammy. She shivered briefly before grabbing her bag from the back and locking her car. She walked up to the building and climbed the stairs. When she reached the front door, she noticed that the smoothie stain from that morning was still there. She rolled her eyes. Of course it was still there. She had no idea why she thought they would clean it up today. Service in this building was crappy at best.

"Hey," Kensi called out as she pushed the door closed behind her and entered the apartment. Monica looked up from her station by the stove, stirring a pot. She waved the wooden spoon she was using, which sent sauce splatting to the floor.

"Shit," she muttered. Kensi laughed and dumped her bag on the ground before meeting Monica in the kitchen.

Monica was wiping up the sauce and Kensi leaned over the pot on the stove, looking in at the spaghetti and meatballs that was cooking. Monica was an excellent cook, which more than made up for Kensi's complete incompetence in the kitchen.

"Oh, my god, Mon, this smells amazing," Kensi moaned.

Monica stood from wiping up the floor and threw the paper towel away. "You'd better not have gotten fast food on the drive back," she said, shuffling Kensi out of the way so she could return to her cooking.

"Nope," Kensi said brightly, hopping up on the counter. "Why in the world would I do that when I have you?"

Monica shot Kensi a look and then rolled her eyes, smiling. "You won't have me forever," she said. "You'd better get used to doing this on your own."

"We are not talking about how it's our last year," Kensi said adamantly, leaning her head back against the cabinets behind her. "I'm not ready for it to end."

Monica tasted the sauce and then added some pepper. She stirred it around a bit and then looked at Kensi. "Aren't you excited to graduate? I'm so ready to get out of this place."

"We have a whole nine months," Kensi whined. "Can't you just enjoy it?"

"Not when I can see my future right in front of me. I'm so sick of school I could puke."

"You're going to law school," Kensi pointed out flatly.

"Not until after I get a job at a firm. Gotta have a way to pay for it."

"You're thinking too far ahead," Kensi sighed.

"What, and these training sessions aren't your way of thinking ahead?" Monica countered. "Oh, I know. You're just scoping out another Marine." She grinned cheekily.

Kensi shook her head and laughed."I meant that you're looking three steps ahead rather than taking things one step at a time. You're getting tunnel vision. Enjoy the moment, isn't that what you keep telling me?"

Monica shrugged, "I'm just really excited about life, you know? I'm ready to be an adult who doesn't have to write papers and live off of minimum wage and loans. And a boyfriend who isn't obsessed with schoolwork would be nice."

"There are guys who aren't obsessed with schoolwork," Kensi said quietly. She'd gone almost all day without thinking about him, why did it have to come up now? Monica's comment about finding another Marine hadn't bothered her, but Kensi had found that the most mundane things drudged up memories and emotions. A certain smell, or the feel of a fabric, or even someone saying something in passing could cause the pang in her chest.

Monica looked at her, slightly pityingly, and then her face brightened up into a mischievous grin. "Yeah, what about those guys today in the quad? They didn't seem all that interested in schoolwork."

Kensi, thankful for the change in subject, rolled her eyes and hopped off the counter. "Don't even start."

Monica giggled. "They seemed interested in one Kensi Blye," she teased. "It's kinda sad they were fighting about it, though."

"They had every right to fight about it," Kensi said, "That Deeks guy insulted me!"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that when a guy likes you, he picks on you?"

"When I was seven. We're adults, he had no reason to treat me like that."

"Ok, but what about the other guy? Paul, right? He's cute, and he stood up for you," Monica pointed out.

Kensi sighed in exasperation. "He's cute, in like, a brotherly way. And he seems nice, but that's about it." She stopped and thought about what she was saying. "Why are we even talking about this? I don't want a boyfriend!"

Monica laughed and turned off the stove. She stirred the pot a little more and then started dishing noodles into two bowls. As she did so, she said, "You should give that Marty guy another chance. He seemed really sorry about it after you left, like he regretted saying that to you. And he's hot, so there's another reason."

Kensi snorted, "Yeah, okay. If I ever see him again. God, I'm so stuck on what he said to me! It's infuriating!"

Monica smiled cheekily and said, "Stuck, smitten… whatever. You sure you aren't stuck on that crazy blond hair or his gorgeous blue eyes?"

Kensi gave her a look and then snatched her bowl off the counter and sat down at the kitchen table. Monica followed her, laughing silently the whole way.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry that I'm posting late for the second week in a row. I promise I won't make this a habit! But next week is my spring break, and I have absolutely nothing to do besides sit at home and write, so I'm definitely going to make up for my inability to stay on schedule and reward you guys for being patient. Thank you all for the nice comments and reviews; I love hearing what you have to say and that you're all as invested in this story as I am. It makes it easier and much more fun to write, knowing that other people want to read it.

Please enjoy, and keep an eye out for the next few chapters this weekend and next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

_Eighteen years old. Skinny with a messy head full of brown curls. Quiet, reserved, and altogether unremarkable except for the fact that he was easy to pick on. The other guys in their pre-law program were already betting on how far that Rickards guy could get before he either failed or dropped out. Deeks kept quiet. He didn't like that they picked on the poor guy, but he also wasn't too keen on being a target, so he didn't say anything._

_He already had issues of his own. His mom had up and left the second he turned 18. He'd finished out his last six months of high school, living alone in their tiny apartment. At least she'd paid for the first three months of the year, as usual. It gave Deeks enough time to find a second job in order to cover what she wouldn't be paying from now on. He wasn't surprised that she left. Hell, she could have left years ago. At least she got him this far. The abandonment he should have felt had long since been replaced with bitterness and now, he felt a hollow relief that she had finally left him instead of sticking around to hurl insults and regrets and accusatory looks his way, still blaming him for his father leaving, even 7 years after the fact._

_So, no, he did not want to get involved in the immaturity of his classmates. He had other things to worry about._

_It was the third week into the first semester of his freshman year. He was still trying to balance out two jobs in addition to class, as well as dealing with the financial aid office, which seemed unable to understand that he had applied as a self-paying student with no parental assistance. Unlike the privileged students eating out of their parents' pockets, Deeks was working for his food and education, and it was such an unusual situation here that the financial aid officers just couldn't see how he had no help. _

_Deeks was waiting outside of one of his introductory law classes, rereading the chapter that was assigned for that day. The professor hadn't come to unlock the classroom door yet, so he was camped out on the floor with the battered, used textbook open in his lap. He had a blue highlighter in his hand because the person who owned the book before him had used yellow and highlighted the book to nearly its capacity. It was just one of the many small consequences of being financial instable that he was facing. And it was just plain irritating._

_Deeks looked up and saw that guy, the Rickards guy, sit down across the hall from him. He pulled his own new copy of the textbook out along with an orange highlighter and proceeded to start meticulously highlighting his book in short, quick strokes of the marker. He looked up and caught Deeks watching and smiled tentatively. Deeks nodded back and looked down at his book. _

_A few minutes passed and a few more of their classmates showed up. Most of them had made quick friends with each other and stood talking in groups, laughing raucously about some party that weekend. Deeks had gone to a few parties, mostly the first week of school, but found that it just wasn't his scene and while the girls were cute and the beer was free, it was impossible for him to have that kind of social life along with work and school. _

_"Hey, Deeks, didn't see you there last weekend," one of the guys, Lucas, looked down at Deeks on the floor. He was a bit nicer than the others, but only barely._

_"I had to work, man. You know how it is," Deeks replied. Who was he kidding? Lucas probably had no idea how that was._

_Lucas and the other guys shrugged and then one turned to Rickards. "I didn't see you there either, Rickards. Have a date with your mommy?"_

_Rickards' face turned red and he said quietly, "No."_

_"Well, where were you, then? Stuffed up at home no doubt."_

_"I was at a surfing competition," Rickards answered, again so quietly you could barely hear him. _

_"Oooh," all the other guys chorused. They sounded like a pack of wolves. "Did you place last, as usual, or do you actually have some talent?"_

_Rickards' face went an even deeper shade of red and he opened his mouth to say something. Thankfully, the professor came and unlocked the door, letting the class in and effectively putting a stop to the growing discontent._

_The few girls in their class always filed into the front, though one, Chelsea, had set her eyes on Deeks and always sat in front of him. She knew she was beautiful, and chose periodic moments in class to stretch and let her sweater fall off her shoulders, exposing bare tanned skin. It caused all of the men in the class to look at her, even the professor, and Deeks was no exception. He did not, however, pay her any mind when she tried advances beyond that. Today, she seemed to have decided, was the day that she would further those advances. She made a move to sit next to Deeks, but he sat on the end of the row and nodded at Paul, who took the kind gesture and gratefully sat down in the open seat next to him. Chelsea's look of frustration was obvious when she sat down in her usual seat in front of Deeks, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and huffing in exasperation._

_Rickards was still red in the face and his breathing was forcefully controlled. Deeks looked at him out of the corner of his eye, watching as he calmed down. While the professor busied himself at the front of the class, tampering with the computer and the projector screen, Deeks turned to Rickards and asked, "So what place did you get in that surf comp?"_

_Rickards looked bewildered that anyone had asked him a question and warily, he answered, "Fourth."_

_"Hey, good job man. Just short of a medal. Which comp were you at?"_

_"South Venice Beach Regionals." _

_Deeks nodded. He had heard of that one and a few of his buddies from high school had competed in it. "So you're going on to states? That's really cool."_

_Rickards' face relaxed a little when he realized Deeks was being genuine and he nodded. "Yeah. States are in October. Do you compete?"_

_Deeks shook his head, "No, not enough time. I try to get out on the waves as much as possible though. I saved up for that new Channel Islands board for a year."_

_"Dude, no way. That board is a piece of art," Rickards said. He had perked up now that he was talking about something he knew. The fact that someone was being nice to him probably helped, too._

_"I know," Deeks answered. "And the resistance on it is nonexistent. It's like riding on air."_

_"Shit," Rickards shook his head in admiration. "What I wouldn't give to take a ride on that board."_

_Deeks stayed quiet for a moment, mulling over where to go from here. It didn't take him long, however, before he said, "I try to get out there in the mornings, if you'd want to try it out sometime."_

_"Really?" Rickards asked excitedly. Deeks nodded._

_The professor had finally gotten the technology up and running and the class was quieting down. Deeks held out his hand and introduced himself, "Marty."_

_Rickards shook his hand, "I'm Paul."_

Paul had filled out since then. His height became much more balanced out with some width in the shoulders, evidence of hard work on a surfboard as well as working on building them, which he started doing his and Deeks' sophomore year. He'd gotten Deeks the job at the surf shack, and they'd been pretty much inseparable ever since. Everyone knew that if you invited Deeks, you always got Paul, and vice versa.

Four years could do a lot to a person, and change was inevitable. Paul became more confident, marginally so. Deeks grew comfortable with the acceptance that his mother would never return for him. He took care of himself, and Paul, when he needed it. Paul's parents separated not long after he left for college, his hotshot lawyer father being the playboy he was. His mother moved across the country to pursue her longtime dreams of becoming a stage actress. Paul was the youngest, and he took the divorce personally as his fault. His older sisters were happily settled in at law firms, the oldest having just gotten engaged upon his graduation from high school. His self-esteem was hit hard and Deeks was there to pick up the pieces.

Four years definitely changed a person, and Deeks and Paul had faced the triumphs and pitfalls that growing up in college led to, and they'd been each other's anchors through it all. Grad school had rolled around and it seemed so natural to keep going the way they were going. After all, their university's program was almost exclusively a fast track and the pre-law students continued through the law program, so most had stuck around, Lucas (much nicer after 4 years), Chelsea (Deeks slept with her once their sophomore year, and they were now friends) and all. They'd all be graduating for good come May, off to work in power law firms and internships.

Deeks wondered if his irritation with Paul was less about Kensi and more about the stress that was being pushed on them in their last year. Professors and advisors were constantly telling them they needed to look for jobs and fill out applications and make connections. Mixers with powerful lawyers were set up every few weeks and they were urged to go. Deeks himself didn't know what he wanted. He didn't like the thought of becoming a powerful attorney or someone who did it all for the money. He wanted to help people, and public defender seemed to fit that goal. Paul's expectations, on the other hand, were pretty high. He felt that he had to live up to his father and sisters' reputations and opening his own firm was the way to do that, in his eyes.

Maybe, Deeks thought, they were just becoming different people. They wanted different things, and the argument and jealousy over this one girl, who honestly didn't seem interested in either of them, was possibly just the breaking point.

* * *

Deeks was working the surf shack one afternoon, having just been handed the keys by Paul. It was a week and half after the incident in the quad, and they still weren't speaking. Paul had texted Deeks the day after, not quite apologizing, but acknowledging his fault. Deeks was still angry at that point and didn't respond. He justified leaving Paul hanging as his way of instilling some sort of resilience in his friend. And they were still friends, just friends who were going through a rough patch. It was normal, right?

It was early afternoon, so the beach was fairly quiet with only a young family playing in the shallows and a few surfers getting in some exercise. Mid-September was fast approaching, meaning the arrival of wannabes and beach bunnies, a high time for the business, but hellish for the employees. Deeks was enjoying the last few days of peace and quiet before the crowds.

"No way," a voice echoed from the parking lot, "You were right!"

Deeks looked over and saw that it was Kensi's friend, Monica, stepping out of the driver's side of an old, and very small, silver Lexus. She had on a pair of sunglasses and was adjusting her sundress. She obviously didn't know how loud she was being, because she didn't even notice that Deeks had noticed.

Surprisingly and yet, not so surprising at all, Kensi stepped out of the passenger side. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, the curls dropping down her back. The wind had picked up in the past few days, stirring up the heat that lingered. Rain was forecasted for that night and the next day, promising relief from the humidity and heat. The breeze lifted some strands from her ponytail and blew them over her shoulder. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and Deeks could see the straps of a bikini tied around her neck.

She looked over and squinted in his direction. Deeks looked out over the water, mulling over what to do or say. He didn't have to make a decision however, when Monica started striding across the sand towards him. Kensi lingered behind, and then slowly followed her friend.

She was still a few yards behind Monica when her friend reached the counter. "Hi," she said briskly.

"Hi," Deeks replied warily. He wasn't sure how to deal with the apparent force of nature that was Monica. In his brief encounter with her, she'd been less than friendly to him, but he knew the reason for that. "What can I do for you?"

Monica slipped her sunglasses over her head, pushing back her hair. She looked at the menu thoughtfully and then turned to Kensi, who came up behind her. She was ignoring Deeks.

"What sounds good?"

"The smoothie's really good," Kensi offered flatly. She was clearly not pleased to be at the beach. Or maybe just this beach in particular. "The lime-raspberry one."

"Okay, we'll have two of those. Medium. And…Kensi, didn't you say on the way over that you were hungry?" Monica looked at Kensi, who was averting her eyes from the surf shack. She was watching the family on the edge of the water.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," she replied. "Maybe it was you." Deeks did not miss the look Kensi shot her friend's way. Monica seemed unfazed.

"No, I mean, I wasn't. But now I am," Monica looked at the menu and then at Deeks, "Can you give me a minute?"

"No problem," Deeks pushed away from the counter and began to make the smoothies. "Milk?" He asked over his shoulder.

"No," both girls said in unison. Deeks turned back to his work.

He heard Kensi sigh deeply behind him and then, "I'm going to go do what we could have gone to _any other beach_ to do."

Monica's reply was cheery, but there was an edge to it, "Okay. Tell me if you want anything."

Deeks turned to see Kensi walking away across the beach. Monica watched her for a moment, shook her head, and turned back to Deeks. He raised an eyebrow and Monica held up a hand, silently telling him not to ask.

"She'll come around," She said.

Deeks looked at her questioningly.

"You gotta tell her sorry first," Monica prodded.

"I plan on it...Are you trying to help me?"

"Not exactly," Monica said, hopping up on a stool at the counter. "I'm just…moving things along." At Deeks' raised eyebrow, Monica sighed and said, "That thing in the quad, whatever it was, was the first time in the past year that I've seen Kensi get worked up about anything. She's been 'fine, just fine' for eight months and then she got _angry_." She said the last part in wonderment and excitement, as if it were an achievement.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Deeks told her.

"You made Kensi Blye show emotion, which is not an easy feat," Monica explained. "She went through some stuff last year—I won't tell you what, it's not mine to tell—but it made her completely closed off, even to me. And here _you_ come, getting her so worked up that she storms away. Seriously, consider it an achievement."

Deeks was still confused, "Uh…thanks?"

"No, thank _you. _Of course, she's back to her emotionally suppressed self, but when she mentioned that she saw you here on the first day of classes, I thought we might come down to get some sun now that the heat is finally blowing off. And so I could give you a chance to apologize."

Deeks capped the girls' drinks and slid them across the counter to Monica. She reached into her purse but Deeks held up a hand, "It's on the house." He sat down on the stool on his side of the counter. "I'm still confused what you want from me, though. I pretty effectively made her hate me."

Monica looked at him with a sly smile. "See? That right there confirms that I knew you were a good guy. You just said something really stupid, didn't you?"

Deeks nodded. "Yeah, I have a habit of that apparently," he said, bitterness tinging his tone at the memory of Paul's accusations.

"It doesn't have to be a habit," Monica said brightly. "Here's the thing: I think Kensi needs to meet people and get out and experience life. I don't want her to miss out on our last year of college and I think you might be the key to that. All you have to do is apologize. I'll take it from there."

"You don't think she might take offense to her life being meddled with? Besides, I have the feeling she's gonna be a little harder to bring around," Deeks said ruefully, looking at where Kensi was standing a few hundred yards away. She had her hands on her hips and was watching the water.

Monica followed his gaze and narrowed her eyes. "I just want her to be happy. Kensi's been through a lot. She's …complicated."

"Aren't we all complicated?" Deeks replied, thinking about his own problems with his friend.

"Please, I know complicated," Monica scoffed, and then she added, partly to herself, "It's never anything you can't fix, though." More brightly, she said, "And I think you can help me break through Kensi's walls."

Deeks took a breath. He wanted to get to know her, this mysterious and beautiful girl. He did not, however, want to play a part in her friend's scheming or meddling or whatever it was. He had a feeling Kensi might resent both of them in that case.

"So," Monica said, changing the subject before Deeks could protest, "Where are you from, Marty Deeks?"

The switch in topic threw Deeks a little bit. His law training—and his gut— told him that she did it on purpose so he wouldn't have a chance to back down. "Reseda," he answered slowly. "You?"

Recognition lit Monica's eyes and she smiled, "Me too! I grew up in the apartments off of Arminta and Wilbur."

Now it was Deeks' turn to smile, "So you went to Blythe Street? I lived on Elkwood."

"Oh, my God, yes! Did you have that teacher, what's his name…Mr. Howardson?"

Deeks laughed, "Oh, my God. Fourth grade with Mr. Howardson. Those damn multiplication tables."

"Fourth grade was the worst year of my life," Monica groaned. "So you went to Cleveland High? It's weird, I thought I would have remembered you."

"Nope. We moved when I was eleven. I ended up at Reseda instead."

"I see. Well, that's pretty cool. It's rare to meet someone from Reseda in this area. Not exactly the type to go here, you know?"

Deeks nodded, "Yeah, I know all too well."

Monica's lips pressed together in a line. Reseda was not known for its affluence, and the fact that anyone from that neighborhood was able to go to a private school _and _earn a law degree was something that some people praised him for, and something that got him judgmental looks and snide comments.

"You're a law student, right?" Monica asked. "Did you win that fast-track scholarship?"

Deeks nodded. He had won a statewide scholarship competition for poverty level students. It was nearly the whole year's tuition for the first year, and half for the years after, as long as the student entered the fast track program. Of course, to Deeks, it was a done deal. There was no way he was going to stay in Reseda and go down the same path as his parents.

"Did you?" Deeks asked.

Monica shook her head. "Nope. Someone else beat me out. Half ride on my own merit, thank you very much." She brushed off her shoulder in a mock show of pride and then grinned at Deeks, who was smiling back. "I'm doing Psychology and Criminology. But lawyer is the dream."

"Will you stay here next year, then? Go to the Law school?"

"I'm still thinking about it. You're probably the only person who can understand it when I say that it's just too much money."

Deeks nodded grimly, at a loss for words.

Monica looked over her shoulder at where Kensi was still standing, impatiently waiting for her smoothie. "I better get some sugar in her before she withers away," she said dramatically.

Deeks laughed. "Hey, it was nice talking to you without you yelling at me."

"I didn't _yell_ at you. I'd say it was more of a scolding," Monica said defensively. Then her lips curled into a wry smile, "Don't worry about Kensi. She'll come around."

"You think?" Deeks was still hesitant to make any promises.

"I know. Just give her time. And tell her you're sorry!" Monica said over her shoulder as she walked away, the smoothies in hand.

Deeks watched her go and wondered just how he'd gotten himself into this, whatever _this_ was.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for being patient, everyone! I'm glad the last chapter went over so well, considering there wasn't much Densi. Fair warning: this one doesn't have much either, and it's a bit shorter than usual. Don't worry, though, because chapter 8 has some great Densi moments. It's in the editing stage right now, so I'll have that up very soon. Please enjoy, and don't forget to follow/favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

"Monica," Kensi warned as her friend walked up. "Whatever you're planning has to stop right now before it even starts."

Monica handed Kensi her smoothie. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said airily.

Kensi raised an eyebrow skeptically, shaking her head. Monica laughed. "I'm serious! We were just talking. Turns out Marty's from Reseda, too." Monica sat down on one of the towels Kensi had laid out and took a sip of her smoothie. "This is really good!"

Kensi sat down, too, not quite believing her friend, but giving up the argument for the moment. "I know. I can't believe you've never had it."

"Just another reason for us to come to _this _beach," Monica quipped.

"Now you're just asking for me not to believe you. 'Just talking' my ass."

"You don't have to believe me," Monica said, trying to sound flippant, but only sounding sneakier. Anyone else would believe her, but Kensi saw right through it.

She sighed, "Monica, don't try and set me up with that guy. He's a jerk."

"Kensi," Monica's tone was serious now, "I'm not trying to set you up with him. I just told him to apologize to you. That's it."

Kensi looked at her friend for a moment, gauging whether she was being truthful or not. There was still something she was hiding, but she seemed to be telling the truth for the most part. Kensi decided to drop it. For now.

Monica looked at her expectantly, waiting for further rebuttal, but Kensi changed the subject. She wasn't the only one who could change the subject in an instant to avoid confrontation. Monica was just better at it.

"How's the argument with the registrar's office going?" Kensi asked.

Monica raised her eyebrows, impressed at Kensi's transition away from an argument. She then sighed dramatically and dropped her sunglasses back over her face. "It's a pain. My LSATs were the best in the class, and I even had my advisor email the office. He told me to appeal to the admissions board."

Although Monica would be going to law school, per California law, she still had to have 2 years' worth of credits in pre-law studies in order to take the exam that would get her into law school. She'd taken the correct amount of credits, just not in a consistent order, and she was having trouble registering for her final semester's worth of classes, as well as for the "Baby Bar", which was the exam that would admit her to law school.

"But I thought you didn't want to go to grad school here," Kensi said, confused.

"The law school is in charge of giving the exam, so they have the final say," Monica explained. The bitterness in her voice and the irritation at the administration was clear. "Can we talk about something else? This is just going to stress me out. We're supposed to be relaxing."

"'Relaxation.' That's a foreign word these days," Kensi said.

"Better take advantage of it while we have it," Monica replied, a trace of bitterness still evident in her voice. She sighed again and took a drink of her smoothie.

Kensi set her own smoothie down, making sure it was lodged into the sand so it wouldn't spill. She stood and pulled off her shirt and shorts, down to her bikini. She sat back down and leaned back on her elbows, tilting her face to catch the warmth of the sun.

"He's looking at you," Monica noted, laughter fighting its way through her voice.

"Monica," Kensi started, warning in her voice.

Monica laughed. "Be flattered, Kens. All that training has seriously paid off. Holy shit, girl."

Kensi smirked, proud of herself. "You're not so bad yourself," she pointed out.

"I know," Monica said proudly. She pulled her sundress over her head, revealing a bikini that she had expertly chosen in order to show off her toned figure. Monica may have had more curves than Kensi, but she worked hard to make sure those curves were in the right places. Kensi sometimes found herself envious of Monica's body. Yes, she had long legs and good skin and was happy with her size, but Monica was sex and softness and just the right proportion of muscle to curves that Kensi just didn't have. It was a mystery to her as to why the other girl didn't have better luck with men. To Kensi, it honestly made no sense.

* * *

The girls laid out in the sun, chatting periodically but mostly quiet, for nearly an hour. Their smoothies had been finished long ago when Monica's phone rang. Kensi looked over as Monica sat up and pushed her sunglasses back to look at the screen. She rolled her eyes, sighed in exasperation, and then answered.

"Hi, Mrs. Williams, what can I do for you?"

Kensi watched Monica listen to the woman on the other end of the phone. She was pretty sure Mrs. Williams was the mother of the twins that Monica watched in the afternoons and evenings. Monica loved the kids to pieces, but their parents were a frequent topic of Monica's overview of her day as she vented to Kensi about the mother's crazy complaints and mandates, and the father's unhealthy relationship with other women, including his unwelcome advances on Monica.

Monica grabbed Kensi's wrist suddenly and looked at her watch, still holding the phone to her ear. "I can be there in about 45 minutes, if that's okay."

Kensi heard the voice on the other end jump a few octaves and Monica pulled the phone away from her ear and grimaced. When the voice quieted down, Monica said sternly, "Mrs. Williams, if you want to call a closer babysitter, I won't be offended. Otherwise, I will see you in 45 minutes."

Monica tone seemed to calm down the woman, because her response was much quieter this time. Monica smiled sweetly, a façade that Kensi knew well, and responded, "Okay, I'll see you soon!" And she ended the call with a jab of her finger.

"Oh, my God," Monica groaned. "If I didn't think I could save those kids from becoming just like their parents, they would be searching for a new nanny."

"Time to go?"

"Yep. Creeper Dad has some last minute benefit that they got invited to, so they need someone to watch the kids. Sorry to cut our afternoon at the beach short."

Kensi waved her hand, dismissing this. "It's not your fault." She pulled on her shirt and stood up to slide up her shorts. Monica followed her lead and slipped her dress over her head.

"Our one mutual day off and now I have to work. No relaxation for the wicked, I guess."

"We got a little bit in," Kensi pointed out. Monica shrugged in agreement, still looking disappointed at their interrupted day off.

They gathered their towels and started the trek across the sand. Kensi had picked up their cups and stopped to throw them away as Monica moved on ahead.

Just as she was about to walk towards the parking lot, she heard "Kensi!"

Kensi turned and crossed her arms, already knowing exactly who it was. Deeks was running across the sand. He stopped a few feet away. "Hey."

"Hey."

He fidgeted a little and then said, "I wanted to apologize. For what happened last week."

Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yeah. Look, I didn't mean what I said. I say stupid things sometimes. It's kind of a problem."

"I gathered that."

Deeks looked down at the sand and then back up at Kensi, his brow furrowed. He stared her straight in the eye and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I _am_ owning up to what I said. I just, you know, wanted to tell you that."

Kensi searched his face, gauging his sincerity. For all she knew, Monica had put him up to it and he was a good actor. He was a law student, after all. But…he seemed genuine. His blue eyes held an honesty and true guilt that not many people had when they apologized. "Sorry" was usually an empty sentiment, in Kensi's experience. It was actually kind of refreshing to see a real apology, even if it was from someone she was sure she couldn't stand.

"Thanks," Kensi said, a little awkwardly. "It doesn't redeem you, but thanks." His face brightened up a little bit. Before he could say anything, Kensi was walking away. She didn't do emotion well, and that conversation looked like it was headed for feelings central. So she bolted. He wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Kensi reached the car, where Monica was standing in the open drivers' side door. "Did he say sorry?"

"Yes," Kensi said shortly. She opened the passenger door and sat in the seat, arms folded.

Monica grinned, "Good." Then she turned to Deeks, who was still standing on the sand. "Hey, Marty!" She yelled.

"What are you doing?" Kensi hissed at her friend. She could only reach feebly across the center console, trying to tug Monica back into the car.

She watched through the windshield as Deeks looked up, his face breaking into a grin. "Yeah?"

"We're having a little get together at our place in a few days to celebrate the end of this heat wave. You should come. And bring your friend. Paul, right?"

"Monica!" Kensi gaped. She hadn't heard anything about a party and was pretty sure Monica was making this up on the spot.

"Sure. Yeah, I'll ask him."

"Great. See you around!" Monica started to drop back into the car when Deeks' voice stopped her.

"Wait! Where do you live?"

Monica popped back up and yelled, "860 Bayshore. Unit 6. We're thinking Thursday. See you then?"

"No problem, see you then."

Monica shut her door and started the car. She had backed out and waved at Deeks, and was headed home before Kensi said anything.

"What the hell was that?" She wasn't particularly angry, just shocked and a little embarrassed at her friend for yelling across a beach parking lot.

"What? A party at our place sounds fun, right? Hopefully it rains by Friday," Monica replied innocently. She flipped the turn signal to pull out of the parking lot.

"You invited a stranger to our apartment. A jerk of a stranger, at that."

"No," Monica drew the word out, "I invited Marty and his friend Paul to our apartment. They're not strangers. And Marty's not a jerk. He apologized to you. He really does feel bad."

"I've heard, thanks," Kensi grumbled.

Monica looked over at her and grinned. "He's such a nice guy, Kens. And this party is going to be fun. I won't invite a ton of people, just the regulars. You can invite some of your training friends, too. Some of them live up here, right?" They were driving along the coast now with the windows rolled down, the sea wind blowing their hair around. The sun was starting to edge west in the sky.

"Fine," Kensi conceded. Monica grinned in triumph. "Just don't hook up with any Marines. It'll make it things weird at training if I have to wrestle with a guy who you had sex with." Kensi shuddered at the thought.

"If he's hot, then _I'll _be the one wrestling with him. You know how much I like to make you awkward." Monica's mischievous smile made Kensi roll her eyes and fight a laugh.

Monica pulled onto their street, still smiling. Kensi was watching her and not the road, so she saw Monica's expression change and heard her shrill "ohmygod!" before they both flew forward in their seats. The seatbelt caught with the brakes and cut into Kensi's neck.

Kensi caught her breath as the car settled back from being stopped so quickly. She looked out the window and saw a guy running onto the sidewalk, a backpack clutched to his chest.

Monica was breathing hard and Kensi looked over at her friend. "Are you okay?"

Monica nodded vigorously before clearing her throat, "Yeah. Yeah. Oh, my God. That guy just ran out in the road. What was he thinking?"

"I don't know," Kensi replied, turning to look in the direction he'd gone. He'd disappeared, though.

"Holy shit," Monica said. She cautiously stepped on the gas, moving the car forward. They were less than a block away from home, and she quickly pulled into her spot in front of their building. Once the car was in park, Monica turned to her friend. "Are _you _okay?"

Kensi nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt to inspect the damage on her neck. "Yeah, just a little seatbelt burn."

Monica winced at the angry red welt. "Idiot. Where did he even come from? There's no way he made it up that cliff."

Kensi shrugged and got out of the car, peering down the street in the direction the guy had gone. There was no sign of him. Monica followed suit and shut her door, towel in hand. She locked the car and the girls trudged up three flights of stairs to their landing. While Monica unlocked the door quickly—she was running extremely late—Kensi noticed that the smoothie stain was still on the floor outside the door. It wasn't as sticky anymore, but a few ants had found their way to it and were rooting around the floor on the landing.

Kensi stamped out the ants before entering the apartment behind Monica. The other girl was already in her room, rattling around in her closet. Kensi set her bag down and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. She felt sleepy and drained after the short time at the beach, and now after their close call on the street outside. She just wanted to shower, eat, and fall asleep.

Monica reappeared, dressed and throwing her hair up in a high bun. She had her purse over one arm and a binder precariously trapped under the other. It was in danger of falling as Monica's arms moved to wind her hair up on top of her head.

"You good to drive?" Kensi asked worriedly.

"Yep. I'll just run over the next person who runs in the road," Monica joked.

"That's not funny."

"I'm okay, Kens. It was just a scare. I'll be sure to tell that guy what a moron he is if I see him on my way, though."

"Tell him from me, too. Dinner?"

"You're going to be on your own tonight. Gotta feed the munchkins and put them to bed. I don't know when I'll be home, so don't wait up."

"Sounds good. Have fun," Kensi called as Monica rushed out the door. She waved behind her and the door shut and groaned when Monica forced it closed.

Kensi heard her car start and pull away, and then she was alone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm going to be honest and say that this chapter caused me a bit of stress. While I was editing, I realized that I didn't like how the ending of the chapter fit with the direction I wanted to take for the story, so I scrapped the last half and basically rewrote it, all the while debating whether I was doing the right thing. In the end, I'm far more pleased with the ending here, and to make up for my indecision, I've combined what was originally supposed to be two chapters so that you have much more to hold you over while I figure out where to go next. I'm hoping you guys can give me a few ideas about that in the comments! Enjoy and don't forget to follow/favorite/review! _  
_

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

_Marty, I'm sorry. Give me a call when you can._

_Come on, man. I need your help._

_Please. It's important._

Deeks watched his phone buzz once again after a slew of text messages that had been piling up all day. It was Wednesday afternoon, and Deeks had the day off from work. He was sitting in the graduate student lounge in the law building on campus, staring at his laptop, willing the words to come out, but failing miserably. He had a pile of cases next to him that he'd been reading and rereading in order to make sense of his first assignment in his Ethics of Law class. So far, it was proving to be a difficult task to focus on, especially since his phone kept going off.

Deeks picked up the phone and checked the messages, knowing they were from Paul and also knowing that he couldn't keep giving the poor guy the cold shoulder for much longer. He was obviously upset, and as much as Deeks didn't want to care, Paul was still his best friend, and he was going to help out his friend.

So he sighed and stood up, leaving his laptop to stew over his paper, feebly hoping that it would type itself. He took his phone out into the hall and punched in Paul's number. It started to ring.

On the third ring, Paul picked up. "Marty," he said, relief clear in his voice. "Hey."

"What's up?" Deeks asked shortly, without preamble.

On the other end, Paul took a breath. "Look, I know you're not really speaking to me right now, but I need your help. My mom's back in town." The words came spilling out in a whoosh, and if Deeks hadn't known Paul as well as he did, he would have asked him to repeat himself.

But Deeks knew Paul, and he didn't need any other explanation for his distress. Paul's mother, Laura, was the epitome of an oppressed diva. Her dreams of having an illustrious and dramatic career were cut short when she got pregnant with Paul's oldest sister, Bethany. Mr. Rickards, Paul's father, was a powerful and manipulative man who kept his wife reigned in. On the surface, it was to protect their reputations, but Deeks knew it was to protect himself from being called out on his many affairs over the years. After their split, Laura had immediately moved to New York, effectively abandoning her family and her identity as the oppressed housewife for her long-awaited turn as the dramatic lead for some off-Broadway production. Deeks had met her only once, when she'd come to LA for Christmas their sophomore year, and she was certainly a handful. She took full advantage of having her freedom, and she used it to manipulate her eager-to-please son. Deeks was not a fan of the woman, and although Paul loved his mother, he made every attempt to spend as little time as possible with her whenever she was back in town.

"I don't know what you would want me to do," Deeks said, a little kinder this time.

"I don't know," Paul sounded flustered. "Just…give me an excuse not to go to dinner with her tomorrow night. She's already roped in Beth and Casey."

Casey was Paul's other sister, and Deeks knew all too well that when the three women got together with Paul, they ganged up on him in even worse ways than the guys in their pre-law program did freshman year. Deeks had witnessed it, and it was grueling. Every now and then, it made him glad his family wasn't around and as involved with his life; it was better to be independent sometimes.

Deeks sighed and thought back to the other day, when he told Monica he would invite Paul to the party. It seemed that the universe really wanted that to happen, as much as he didn't.

"Why can't you make something up yourself?"

"You know I can't lie to them, man. They'll figure me out in a second." Paul's voice was jumping an octave every second, and his panic mode was starting to kick in, heading quickly toward self-destruct.

"Fine, fine. Calm down. There's a party tomorrow. You might as well come with me."

"Thanks, Marty. Seriously. Where's the party at?" Paul's voice was returning back to normal now that he'd been reassured that he didn't have to spend the night being grilled by his mother and sisters.

"Over on Bayshore. At Monica and…Kensi's place," Deeks answered hesitantly.

Paul was quiet for a moment and then, "Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. Thanks. Uh, you see them somewhere or something?"

Deeks kicked the cinderblock wall lightly with toe of his shoe and scrubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, at the beach the other day. They came out to get some sun and stopped by the shack."

"And you talked to them?"

"Monica mostly. She's the one who invited me."

"And Kensi?"

"I apologized to her for what I said, but she pretty much ignored me."

Paul was quiet for a second. "That's good. That you apologized. So you're sure it's okay for me to go to the party?"

"Yeah, Monica told me to invite you. Look, I gotta get this paper finished or Healy will have even more reason to hate me. I'll text you the details, ok?"

Paul chuckled lightly at Deeks' joke and then said, "Thanks, Marty. I'll see you tomorrow."

Deeks hung up and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. God, he hated being awkward with Paul. They had their disagreements, so it wasn't unusual for one or both of them to act weird the first time they spoke afterwards, but it usually blew off quickly. This was just weird, and it made Deeks uneasy. He just hoped that they could deal with it over a few beers tomorrow night and get over it. And stay away from Kensi, as if that were easy.

* * *

The wind was blowing harder on Thursday, although it was still a hot wind. The humidity had lessened a bit and Monica had worn her hair down for the first time in two weeks, a record for her—and a disgrace—as she kept reminding Kensi.

Kensi skipped training to help Monica set up for the party. It was 6pm and she was driving back from picking up the alcohol for the night. She'd also gotten a plastic tub and some ice per Monica's request. It was a Thursday, and Monica didn't have to get up for class in the morning, so she was planning on getting drunk tonight. She had it organized so she'd have enough time to de-hangover herself before picking the twins up from school at 4. She had it all planned out, as was Monica's way.

Kensi, on the other hand, was not entirely opposed to getting drunk, but she preferred her drink out of a bottle rather than a tub. She also preferred to be able to tell whether her friends were too drunk to drive home and stop them if they were. Someone had to be the judge.

Kensi pulled into her parking spot and walked around to the trunk, where she pulled out the tub, with ice and bottles inside. She carried it up the stairs to the apartment and realized that she didn't have any way to open the door without setting down the tub. She kicked it a few times and heard Monica on the other side scurrying to open it.

"Hey!" the other girl greeted, holding the door open so Kensi could come in.

"Hey," Kensi said breathlessly. She straightened up after setting the tub in the middle of the living room. "That stain's gone."

Monica looked out in the hallway and said, "Well, look at that, maintenance finally did something for once."

Kensi snorted a laugh and then asked, "How's the food coming?"

Monica forced the door closed and turned with a smile on her face. "Good. Guess who's coming tonight?"

"Who?" Kensi asked, laughing at her friend's excitement.

"Christine Marcus. You remember her?"

"Who couldn't? She practically blew up Jackson Hall freshman year."

"I know! It was awesome! Orly saw her while he was out surfing the other day and invited her. It's been so long."

"Well, yeah, she got expelled."

"For being awesome! Tonight is going to be such a great night."

Kensi rolled her eyes good naturedly and said, "As long as she doesn't blow up our apartment building, I'm all for her coming." She moved farther into the apartment, taking the bags of alcohol with her. She went to the kitchen and started pulling bottles out and setting them on the counter. Monica came up behind her and started moving bowls and plates out of her way defensively.

"I'm not going to ruin your food," Kensi laughed.

"I don't know that," Monica said suspiciously. "Your cooking skills are so bad you probably don't even have to touch it to ruin it."

"Ouch," Kensi said, putting her hand to her chest and feigning insult. Then she shrugged, "You're probably right."

"You know I am," Monica laughed. She set the plates on the opposite counter and then went back in the living room. Kensi followed, having emptied the bags.

Monica tore open one bag of ice and poured it into the bin. Kensi picked up the other and held it up questioningly. "What do you want to do with this? It won't fit in the freezer."

"Sink? We can put the bottles in there."

"Good idea. This is why we're roommates." Kensi gestured between the two of them while hoisting the bag of ice into her arms.

"You know it. I also feed you," Monica quipped with a grin. She started to pour a few of the bottles into the tub.

"More jokes at the expense of my cooking and I might have to move out."

"And fend for yourself? Yeah, right. You'd be back in less than a month."

Kensi stuck her tongue out at her friend and crossed the room. She plugged the sink drain and poured the ice into the basin. It just reached the top and Kensi started to put bottles and cans into it. She also dropped a few sodas in for good measure.

Monica and Kensi worked quietly for a few moments. Kensi tidied up the kitchen and pulled a package of plastic cups out of the cupboard and set it next to the sink and turned to help Monica, but the other girl pointed her back into the kitchen. "Permanent marker. Remember what happened last time?"

The last party they'd held had turned into a guessing game of whose cup was whose, and then all the cups without names had been used in a messy and surprisingly gross game of beer pong. Monica had bought a pack of permanent markers the very next day, while Kensi struggled to make their living room rug smell less like beer. They ended up buying a new rug, too.

Kensi took a marker out of the drawer and set it pointedly on the counter next to the cups. Monica nodded, satisfied.

"We good to go?" Kensi asked.

Monica looked around. "I think so. Shot to start the night?"

"That's what I've been waiting for," Kensi responded. She followed Monica, who was laughing at her response, into the kitchen. She poured a shot of straight tequila for each girl and handed Kensi a glass.

The girls clinked glasses and swallowed their shots just as there was a pounding on the door. Kensi felt the burn down her throat and winced, already feeling the buzz hit her system. She watched Monica head to the door, shot glass still in hand and opened it to reveal the infamous Orly.

Orly, an exuberant and outgoing guy, had a 12 pack under his arm and his girlfriend Quinn under the other. "Heyooo!" He yelled, entering the apartment. He was the type of guy who filled up a space with his personality, and the room instantly felt smaller, but not uncomfortable. Jack had never liked Orly; he'd thought he was too cocky. Kensi liked him, and although he could be too in-your-face sometimes, she thought he was funny and he had been one of very few of her friends who had been there for Kensi throughout her grief over Jack leaving. Now, he released Quinn and set the beer down and hugged Monica and then Kensi, crushing them both in big hugs as if they hadn't just seen the guy earlier that day.

"How are my second and third favorite girls?" He asked, winking at Quinn, who rolled her eyes. Their love for each other was unequalled, however exasperated the quieter and more reserved Quinn was with her boyfriend's antics.

"I'm good," Monica said. "But who's second and who's third?"

Orly scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Depends on who lets me beat them in pong tonight," he teased.

Kensi pointed at Monica with a smile. "That'd be Mon. You know I won't go down without a fight."

"True," Quinn said with a laugh, coming back from the kitchen with drinks for her and Orly. "You gonna beat him at arm wrestling, too?"

"You know I'll try," Kensi replied.

Orly pulled his arm away in a show of mock defense, making everyone laugh.

Monica had left the door open and a few more people showed up, and she greeted them, shuffling Kensi and Orly further into the apartment. Quinn stayed to say hello to her best friend, who had come with the second group.

Orly nudged Kensi, who was watching the greetings. "And you? You're doing okay?"

Kensi turned to him and saw the genuine concern in his face. She smiled and said, "Yeah, I am actually."

Orly's grin split his face. "That's good, Kens. That's really good. I don't need to beat anyone up for you?" he teased, knowing full well that Kensi could single-handedly beat up anyone who messed with her.

"No," Kensi laughed.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need help," he said. Kensi caught the additional meaning in his words and nodded, smiling.

"Thanks, Orly." He smiled down at her and chuffed her in the shoulder before rejoining the fledgling party and greeting their other friends.

"Kensi!" A few of them yelled, beckoning her over. Kensi smiled and joined her friends. A drink was pushed into her hand and their hands wrapped around her in hugs, and she felt less pitied and more like she belonged than she had in 9 months.

* * *

"Wow," Paul breathed as he and Deeks walked up Bayshore Drive. They'd parked at the bottom of the road because there was no way Deeks' Malibu was making it up this incline. Deeks shared Paul's amazement. The sea was on their left, the sheer cliff dropping off the side of the road guaranteeing that there would be no beachgoers disturbing this street. The views from the houses and apartment buildings must have been incredible, Deeks thought. Sure, they were packed tightly together, but being able to see the ocean made it feel less crowded, he was sure.

Deeks had picked up Paul from his apartment and though he'd received a grateful "thank you" for getting him out of dinner with his mother, they hadn't spoken much. Now, Paul said, "Do you think this is going to be weird? Because we don't know any of their friends?"

Deeks shrugged and ignored the burning in his legs as they climbed the street. "Monica will find us someone to talk to if we can't find anyone ourselves. She's pretty friendly."

"Yeah, but-,"

"Paul," Deeks cut him off. Paul turned to him, his eyes wide with surprise. Deeks could see the fear there, too, at having to go into a new situation. "Chill, okay? It can't be worse than dinner with your mom and sisters."

Deeks turned and continued walking. After a moment, he heard Paul follow him. They walked another few moments in silence. Deeks could feel Paul's hurt and instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he said as they continued walking. "I didn't mean it like that. Just, you know, get a little confidence."

"Don't let them see me sweat?" Paul asked, a small smile in his voice.

Deeks laughed lightly, "Exactly." He looked over at his friend and grabbed his shoulder. "Don't get too worked up. It's just a party, man."

And just like that, the tension of the past two weeks faded away. There was still an uncomfortable element between them, like they were afraid to say something that would set the other off, but they were back to their usual way of talking to each other. It felt more normal than it had lately.

"Jesus, this street is ridiculous," Paul groaned as they continued to climb. They could hear music coming out of the open windows of an apartment building a few hundred yards further.

"Come on, I think that's it. We don't do all those runs on the beach for nothing," Deeks said.

The men reached the building, 860 Bayshore, as Deeks had predicted. They looked up at it. The music was coming out of the third floor windows and Paul groaned again, "Dude, I can't climb anymore."

Deeks pushed his friend toward the stairs and followed behind, "Don't flake out now."

They reached the top of the stairs and didn't need the number 6 on the door to tell them where the party was. They could hear music and laughter from behind the door and before Paul had a chance to back down, Deeks knocked.

The door was pulled open by Kensi, who was laughing at something. She had a drink in her hand and her eyes were bright. Her smile dimmed a bit when she saw Deeks and Paul. "Hey," she greeted them. She opened the door a little wider, "Come on in."

"Paul! Marty!" Monica exclaimed as they walked into the apartment. She stood up from her spot on the couch and stepped over the legs of the other people sitting on the couch. She stumbled a bit over the last person, who reached out to right her. "Thanks," she said off handedly, causing the friend who helped her to shake his head and smile.

Monica came up next to Kensi and grabbed Deeks' hand, pulling him into the circle of people. Paul followed. Kensi closed the door behind them. "Everyone," Monica announced, "This is Marty," she pointed to Deeks. "And this is Paul," she did the same with Paul. "Marty, Paul, this is, well, everyone!" She gestured around the room at the people, who all waved or nodded in their direction.

After an awkward moment, one of the guys sitting on the couch gestured them over, "Well, come on in!" Deeks shrugged and walked over. The guy stood up and offered his hand. He was huge; extremely tall and built with muscle. "I'm Orly."

Deeks took his hand and shook it. "Marty Deeks."

"Paul Rickards," Paul said, holding out his hand.

Orly shook their hands and then gestured to the rest of the group who were sitting around the low coffee table. "Okay, so this is Quinn, Bailey, Chris, Jinkies, Kate, Miles, Ledger, and Vanessa." He pointed at each person in turn and then turned to Kensi, who was still standing by the door. "You know Kensi, right?" Paul and Deeks nodded. Kensi uncrossed her arms and nodded as well.

Monica came in and placed a full cup in each man's hand. "And Monica, of course. You know Monica," Orly said with a grin. He reached out to ruffle Monica's hair and she swatted his hand away with a glare.

"Don't mess up my hair," she whined. Orly laughed a deep bass laugh. Monica huffed and climbed over the mess of limbs on the couch back to her spot. Happily settled back in her seat, she waved Deeks and Paul over, "Come in! We're just catching up after the summer. There's more people coming, but it's Rush Week, and they're all tied up in Greek stuff."

A few people on the couch moved over, but Deeks chose to sit on the arm. Paul sat on the floor in the space that Kensi had apparently left, as she was left standing awkwardly on the outside of the group. Paul noticed this and moved to stand up, "Sorry. I didn't know-,"

"It's fine," Kensi interrupted him. "I'll go grab my chair from my room."

She disappeared into her room and conversation started up again. Orly turned to Deeks, looking over the head of the girl sitting next to him. Quinn?

"So what year are you, Marty?"

"Last year of law school," Deeks replied, feeling the age gap all of a sudden. It wasn't that much, but in college, it was an eternity.

"Whoa, dude! How'd you meet Kensi and Monica? It's not exactly like you're running in the same circles."

"Yeah, I know. No need to point out how old I am." Orly cracked a grin at that. "Nah, we met at a party the weekend before classes started."

Orly nodded, "Cool, man. So Monica invited you? Kensi doesn't seem too pleased that you're here."

Deeks laughed self-consciously. "Yeah, well, it's…complicated with Kensi."

"Dude, you've know her two weeks and things are complicated? Wait, are you the guy from the quad?"

Deeks was taken aback. "Unfortunately. How'd you know about that?"

"Monica," Orly said by way of explanation. Deeks nodded knowingly. He was starting to understand that Monica was someone who had trouble keeping things to herself, and liked to have a hand in everybody's business.

Kensi returned to the room and set her chair down on the other side of the group. She was welcomed seamlessly into the conversation and she laughed at something one of the guys across the way had said. Deeks was looking at her, but she didn't look up once.

"Okay, man, you either gotta ask her out or forget it. Either way, you're probably gonna be turned down," Orly said, catching Deeks' staring. "Kensi doesn't play games."

"I'm aware," Deeks said, turning back to Orly. "I apologized for the scene in the quad and she basically shut me down."

"You're gonna have to do a lot more than apologize," Orly said, laughing. "Like I said, she's tough."

"I have no doubt."

Quinn looked up from her conversation with the people on the floor, including Paul. "Are you talking about Kensi?" She asked.

Deeks nodded. He noticed Paul looking at him. His expression was unusually inscrutable.

Quinn put a hand on Deeks' knee and said, "I'm gonna give you some advice, because I'm guessing you're a nice guy and I want to save you some heartache. Just leave her be, okay? She's been through a tough year. We're only just starting to get her back to normal. I don't want to have to pick up the pieces again." She said the last part sadly, looking down at her hands.

Orly put his arm around Quinn and squeezed. He looked up at Deeks and said, "We're pretty protective of Kens, though she'll never tell you she needs protecting. Just, you know, go easy, okay?"

Deeks nodded, bewildered. Monica had told him Kensi had gone through a tough patch, but he didn't realize how badly it might have affected their friends.

Monica effectively interrupted the mood that settled over their conversation. "Who's ready for shots?" She asked, standing up. She swayed a little and the guy who had been sitting on the chair next to the couch took her drink out of her hand and set it on the table.

"Hey," she protested.

"What? You won't have room for shots if you keep drinking that crap," the guy shot back.

She pointed at him, "True. Kensi? Will you help me?" Kensi nodded and stood up. She followed Monica into the kitchen.

"Hey, Kens, can I plug in my iPod?" One of the girls called. Kensi waved at her with a thumbs-up. The girl hopped up and fiddled around with the sound system before a fast song with heavy bass started to thump through the speakers.

People started to dissipate around the room. Some stayed on the floor around the table while others made space for a game of quarters. Paul stood up next to Deeks and looked at him incredulously.

"Dude," he said, hurt in his face. "You're trying to get with Kensi?"

Deeks rubbed his face and took a drink from his cup—he winced at how horribly fruity it was— before answering. "Not really, no. But when I ran into them at the beach the other day, Monica and I got to talking…Look, I'm not trying to infringe on anything you want to happen between you guys, but you heard what they were saying. Give her space, man."

"You talked to _Monica_?"

"Yes."

"And what did you talk about?"

"Home, our majors, normal stuff."

"But Kensi came up?"

"Yes. Monica told me to apologize to her. And I did. I'm pretty sure she still hates me, if that makes you happy," Deeks said spitefully.

Paul's face hardened. "You know that I like her."

"You don't even know her!" Deeks snapped. The loud music covered his outburst, so thankfully, no one but Paul heard him. "And neither do I. Is that the only reason you came tonight?"

Paul looked away and set his jaw.

"Dude, you can't play it like this. You have to get to know her. And stop thinking that I'm infringing on your territory or whatever, because I'm not."

"I can't stop thinking it, because you always manage to ruin it!" Paul shot back. His vehemence startled Deeks. "Every girl I've ever liked has met you and then liked you more. You have no idea what it feels like to be passed up for something better than you and have no control over it."

Deeks narrowed his eyes and said quietly, "Yeah, actually I do. If you stopped and, you know, noticed that I have a life that doesn't include helping you out, you might know that." With that, he walked away. The only secluded place he saw was the kitchen, so he went that way without even knowing what he was doing.

Deeks was vibrating with anger, and he was so involved in it that he didn't noticed Monica and Kensi until he almost ran into Kensi in the kitchen. She was carrying a plate of shots and the glass rattled when Deeks bumped into the plate. Kensi lifted it out of the way to settle it and said, "Is running into girls your way of picking them up?"

Deeks looked up at her and said, "Sorry. I didn't see you."

"I know."

She caught his eye and looked at him. _Really _looked at him. Deeks tried to look away, but her gaze was magnetic. "Hey, you okay?" She asked softly.

"Yeah."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Monica," she said over her shoulder. Monica had been watching the exchange with a sly smile on her face and now she stepped forward. "Can you take this out?" She held up the tray. "I wouldn't want it all to end up on the floor because someone can't stop bumping into people." She looked pointedly at Deeks.

"Of course," Monica said, taking the tray, but not before Kensi grabbed two shots off of it. Monica winked at Deeks on her way past him.

"Here," Kensi said as she handed Deeks a shot. "I don't know what's got you worked up, but this'll help." She held hers out and they touched glasses and drank. Deeks was still angry, but the alcohol hit his system and countered the burn of anger with the burn of tequila.

"Shit," Deeks said. He was unprepared for what was going into his mouth and the burn of the alcohol made his voice raspy.

"Better?"

"Kind of, thanks. You drink it straight?"

"You don't?"

Deeks looked at Kensi, surprised and impressed. A small smile was tugging at her lips. "I usually have at least a lime on hand," he said.

"We have them if you want to take it training wheels style."

Deeks finally figured out that she was teasing him and smiled a little. "Don't worry about me. Two wheels, it is."

"Right, okay then," she said skeptically.

Deeks grabbed a beer from the sink, which was filled with ice. He twisted off the cap and held it out to Kensi, who set her shot glass down and took the bottle. Even though she had acted tough during the shot, Deeks could tell she was relieved to have the cool beer to dull the burn of straight tequila. Deeks uncapped his own and downed a swig, a smile fighting its way onto his lips.

"I saw that," he said.

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Are you trying to impress me or something?"

"What? No! What are you talking about?"

"Did you drink straight tequila just to show off? Because I can tell you really didn't enjoy that."

Her eyes widened for a moment and then she said defensively, "I enjoyed it a lot, actually. And no, I wasn't showing off."

Deeks tried not to laugh when he said, "You sure? Because I can get some limes and salt. We can go at it on the training wheels. I won't judge."

Kensi glared at him. Deeks couldn't contain his mischievous grin.

She opened her mouth to say something when someone yelled her name from the other room. "Your Marines are here!"

Kensi rolled her eyes and then sidled up to Deeks. He thought she was just getting in his space for the sole purpose of flirtation, but she said softly, "Excuse me."

Deeks moved out of the way. As she left the room, she smiled over her shoulder at him. _Oh, God_.

* * *

What was she thinking? It was the alcohol; that was the only explanation. Kensi Blye was not the type of girl to flirt with a guy the way she'd been flirting with him just now. The teasing and the shots and his smile…

Oh, God.

She hadn't flirted in three years, except with Jack, who had honestly been better at making her feel wanted more than anything else. He had never really teased her the way she'd been teasing Deeks. And he'd teased her right back, calling her out on trying to impress him.

There was no denying Deeks was attractive, even though he wasn't really her type. But if Kensi was being honest with herself, she really didn't know her "type" anymore. She'd thought she was attracted to military men. Dark and brooding, maybe. Clean cut, definitely. But Deeks…he was so out of her box. He was blonde and scruffy and laid back. And she kept telling herself he was a jerk, but every time she saw him, it was a fight to keep that pretense.

She shook herself and greeted the guys from her training course. They were all dressed in plainclothes, which was weird for her to see. They were usually dressed in their uniforms. This was the type of guy she liked, she told herself. Clean and ambitious and military. It was all she'd ever known.

After pointing the guys to the drinks and introducing them to Monica, who put on her most flirtatious smile, Kensi went to shut the door, but was stopped by a voice on the other side, yelling up the stairs. "Hey, wait!"

Kensi opened the door again and saw a blonde girl running up the stairs with a grin on her face. She was clutching her purse in one hand and bottle of vodka in the other.

"Hey!" Kensi greeted. "It's been a while. Blown up anything recently?"

"I've abandoned my life of crime," Christine said, laughing breathlessly. "My God, that hill and those stairs are a killer." She bent over at the waist and caught her breath.

"Sorry," Kensi apologized. "Come on in. Monica's been dying to see you."

Christine straightened up and entered the apartment. "Where can I put this?" she asked, holding up the bottle. Kensi pointed towards the kitchen and they hugged briefly. "We'll catch up later?"

"Definitely," Kensi said with a smile. "I think Monica's in the hallway somewhere. That, or she's in the kitchen chatting up some Marines."

"Hasn't changed a bit, has she?" Christine laughed.

"Not much. She paces herself now," Kensi joked.

Christine grinned at her and moved into the apartment, waving over her shoulder. Kensi heard Monica's squeal of joy when she was reunited with her freshman year roommate. She laughed to herself and went to close the door. She looked out onto the landing first, and reveled in the cool breeze that was now blowing off the ocean. It was a welcome feeling after nearly two weeks of constant heat. She could smell rain in the air, too, and hoped that it fell tonight.

Kensi turned after closing the door and saw Paul standing awkwardly near the door. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he said back. Then he smiled shyly at his feet. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Kensi said. She thought she knew where this was going, and she really didn't want to turn this guy down; he was so sweet.

"How do you know that girl?" Kensi was taken aback. That was definitely not what she'd expected him to say.

"Who? Christine?" He nodded. "She was Monica's roommate freshman year. Do you know her?"

Paul looked over his shoulder towards the hallway, where Kelly had disappeared with Monica. "Sort of," he said. "Her name's Christine?"

Kensi nodded, starting to realize what was going on. "Go talk to her," she said, nudging Paul toward the hallway.

He looked at her in fear, a deer in the headlights. "I don't know if I can. She already stood me up once."

Kensi furrowed her brow. She didn't know Christine as well as Monica, but that didn't seem like the type of thing she'd do. "Christine wouldn't have stood you up on purpose. Come on, I'll introduce you." She gestured across the room and started to walk towards the hallway. Paul followed her.

Christine and Monica were standing in the hallway chatting with a few of the Marines. "Hey, Kens!" Monica called out. "Your friends were just telling us how you beat them at everything in training."

The guys looked a little embarrassed at being called out, and mumbled their excuses before heading back into the living room. Kensi fought to keep her pride in check as she turned to include Paul in the group. He was staring at Christine. "Hey, Christine, Paul says he knows you?"

Christine looked Paul up and down in confusion. "Uh…I don't think so. Where would we have met?"

Paul swallowed nervously and said, "Down at the beach. It was back in August. It must have been someone who looked like you. Sorry."

He started to turn away, but Christine said, "Did you get stood up? By a girl who looks just like me?"

Paul turned, his eyes wide. He nodded.

Christine nodded knowingly. "You met my twin, Cara."

Kensi and Monica gaped at her. "You have a twin?" Monica said in surprise.

Christine laughed lightly. "Yeah. She's the better behaved one, but a total bitch." She turned to Paul, "I'm sorry she did that to you. I'd make it up to you if I could, but I can't do _everything_ for her."

Paul was gaping at her. Once he realized that everyone was looking at him, he closed his mouth, swallowed again, and said, "You might be able to make it up to me, if you'll let me take you on a date."

Christine's mouth quirked into a smile, and she said, "Sure. But let's see how tonight goes first."

Paul's look of complete amazement that she'd agreed made Monica giggle. Then, he smiled. Kensi was under the impression that Paul didn't smile too often, but when he did, it lit up his whole face and turned him from decently cute to full-on surfer-boy gorgeous. Even Monica's eyes widened.

"Can I get you a drink?" Paul asked.

"Lead the way," Christine told him, gesturing towards the kitchen.

After they left, Monica leaned over to Kensi. "Oh, my God. Why doesn't he smile like that more often?"

Kensi had a smile on her face. A real smile, the kind that came with a balloon of happiness in her chest. She tried to push it down so it wouldn't overwhelm her. Monica noticed, though, and punched her friend in the arm.

"Kensi! Look at you, playing matchmaker! You'll be stealing my job pretty soon."

Kensi took a drink from the bottle in her hand. "There's no chance of that happening, trust me. I didn't even know it would turn out that way. Christine has a sister?"

Monica shrugged, a bemused expression on her face. "I don't even know how I didn't know that. I mean, we were roommates."

"Every family's got its secrets?" Kensi guessed.

"Whatever secret it is, I want to meet this sister and bitch her out for standing up Paul. He's such a sweet guy."

"You barely know him," Kensi laughed.

"I don't have to _know_ him to know he's nice," Monica retorted. She took a drink and said, "He's friends with Marty, so he's gotta be pretty decent." She looked at Kensi out of the corner of her eye, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Why do we always end up back here?" Kensi asked in exasperation, knowing full well that she was taking the bait and preparing herself for the consequences.

Monica's look of delight as Kensi fed into the topic did not go unmissed. "Because I saw you and Marty in the kitchen earlier. Kens, you were _flirting_ with him. I've never seen you flirt with anyone, not even Jack."

"Then how do you know I was flirting?"

"Please, I know all the signs. The smiling, the giggling, the hair twirling…"

"The pelvic tilt," Kensi heard a male voice say from behind her. Monica grinned at whoever it was and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Kensi turned. Speak of the devil.

Deeks was standing in the doorway to the hallway, a drink in hand. "Talking about me?"

Kensi and Monica spoke at the same time.

"No."

"Yes."

Deeks grinned and leaned in. Softly, he said, "Don't worry, Kensi. I won't tell everyone that you secretly like me."

Monica gasped and giggled. "Oh, my God. Okay, I think that's my cue." And she hurried off, but not without elbowing Kensi on her way past and wiggling her eyebrows at her.

Kensi was thankful for the dim lighting in the hallway that hid her blush. It wasn't like what he'd said wasn't true; it was that he'd figured her out so quickly. And of course Monica had to feed into it.

"I wouldn't go that far," Kensi said, lifting her head in defiance. "It's more like you're barely tolerable."

Deeks' grin grew and his eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Whatever you say, Blye."

"I'm serious," Kensi said, trying to infuse her voice with as much seriousness as she could.

"I didn't say you weren't," he said lightly, taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.

Kensi opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted—what was it with the interruptions tonight?—by someone yelling from across the apartment, "Hey! I think it's going to rain!"

People rushed past Kensi and Deeks, desperate excited for a reprieve from the heat. Kensi backed up against the wall, trying not to trip over the few cups that were stacked on the ground. Deeks put his hand on her elbow to steady her.

Kensi was sure it was just a reflex; that he had caught her only because that's what you did when someone was falling over. But his hand on her elbow was warm and calloused and strong, and when he took it away, Kensi felt the cold air hit her skin and missed the contact.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly.

"Glad I bumped into you this time?" He asked, that smile still on his face. Unlike Paul, Deeks couldn't seem to stop smiling.

Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Kens! You coming?" Monica called from across the apartment. Deeks gestured for Kensi to go in front of him and she did. He followed behind.

Someone had turned off the music, and as they moved towards the front of the apartment, Kensi heard thunder rumbling. Monica was standing by the door, looking outside towards the water. The wind was blowing hard now, and when Kensi stepped outside, she felt it with relief after so many days of uncomfortably hot and humid weather.

Monica shut the door of the apartment and started down the stairs, Kensi and Deeks following. At the second floor landing, they saw Paul and Christine leaning up against the railing, looking out over the ocean, where the clouds were bursting with lightning. They were talking quietly, leaning in towards each other. Kensi and Monica smiled knowingly at each other, and Deeks grinned too, though with a little bemusement.

As they continued down the stairs, Deek said, "What was that?"

Monica looked over her shoulder, "Paul met a girl."

"Obviously."

Monica laughed and rolled her eyes. "She's actually really great. Kensi set them up."

Deeks turned to Kensi with amusement in his eyes. "I didn't set them up, exactly," she explained defensively. "It was more a matter of chance."

Something about her words had Deeks reeling. They had reached the first floor landing and he slowed, catching Kensi's arm. Monica continued ahead, hopping down on the pavement when she reached the bottom. She ran into the street to join their friends.

Kensi looked at him like she had in the kitchen, searching his face for answers.

"I have something to tell you," Deeks said. He leaned against the railing that looked down over the street. Kensi joined him, dangling her hands over the edge. One hand still held the bottle of beer he'd uncapped for her, her fingertips gripping the neck.

"What's up?" Kensi prompted him after he didn't say anything for a moment.

Deeks took a deep breath and said, "I want to thank you for helping Paul out. We're not on the best terms right now. We fought earlier. That's why I was angry in the kitchen. I think him meeting someone will be good for him. And for our friendship." He paused for a second and screwed up his face, then said, "And I want to apologize again. I really am so sorry for the way I acted, Kensi."

"It's okay." Kensi told him quietly. She looked out to the street, where the partygoers were standing on the pavement, watching as the lightning-ridden clouds moved closer to shore.

"No, it's really not," Deeks said, turning to face her. Kensi looked at him in confusion. All of a sudden, he wanted to tell her everything so she'd understand him. So she'd trust him. "This whole thing between me and Paul, it's been about you. We both liked you from the start, but I was trying to be a good friend and help him out and it's basically gone to shit."

She was still confused, but Deeks saw her start to put the pieces together. "You were trying to get me to like him by being a jerk in comparison. So, that thing in the quad…it wasn't real, was it?"

Deeks shook his head, grimacing. "But the apology was real. That night at the party? That was real. Tonight was definitely real." He said the last part softly, and he wasn't sure if she had heard him.

Kensi laughed suddenly, making his stomach flip at the sound. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh, really laugh, and it lightened the mood considerably. It didn't mask his confusion, however, and she explained, "I ended up being the one with the good liquor."

Deeks' lips quirked up in a wry smile at the memory of that night at the party, and then tonight with the tequila. She didn't seem to be too upset, so he chanced a tease. "I can still show you a good time," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Deeks," she told him in exasperation, fighting a smile. "You just got into my good books, don't ruin it for yourself."

"Wait, I'm in your good books now? What for?"

"Deeks," she sighed, giving him a look.

Deeks grinned. He understood her, though, so he held up his hands and said, "I'll take what I can get. One question, why are you keeping me around? You could just as easily tell me to go away and never come back."

Kensi looked away, back to the ocean. Deeks followed her gaze. The clouds were nearly upon them now, and the rumbles of thunder were getting louder and more frequent. Still not looking at him, she said, "Because I know you would do it, and somehow, that makes me trust you just a little more."

"Really?" he said, surprised.

"Don't make me say it again, Deeks."

"Okay, okay. I'll take what I can get. Got it."

She looked at him and rolled her eyes at his goofy smile. She gestured impatiently at the pavement below and said, "Do you wanna join the party now?" Deeks could tell she was hiding a smile of her own, though.

* * *

He pushed away from the railing and held his hand out, indicating that Kensi should descend the stairs first. She did and he followed. She could feel him behind her, acutely aware of his presence, and it confused her even more. There was no way she should be feeling like this about someone so quickly after knowing them. There was no way she should be allowing herself to become friends (well, not quite) with a guy who made her heart flutter the way it did when he smiled. It violated every single one of her rules.

They reached the pavement just as the first drops started to fall. Monica ran over and pulled Kensi into the street as everyone started yelling at the sky. Thunder rumbled and a streak of lightning ran down into the ocean. Kensi looked behind her and saw Deeks following. He was looking at her and he smiled. Unconsciously, she smiled back.

The raindrops came faster and her friends started to run around in the street, yelling. Thankfully, they were staying well clear of the edge of the cliff. Many people were just standing still, their tongues out to catch the rain. Monica, standing next to Kensi, did the same. Wind blew in and made the moisture on their skin cool instantly. The rain started to come harder and Kensi laughed at her friends dancing in it, in the middle of the night.

A few people from the apartments around them came out to the street and celebrated the end of the heat wave as well. Kensi looked over at Deeks, who was laughing at something Orly had said. His blonde hair had darkened to almost brown and was plastered to his face. His grin was not directed to Kensi, but it made her heart flip anyway.

Oh, god.

Kensi could feel her hair start to get weighed down by the rain, and the drops on her bare shoulders were cold, but she didn't care. She was here, with her friends, and it was raining for the first time in weeks, and it wasn't hot anymore. She was having fun for the first time in forever and Deeks wasn't actually a jerk and things were actually kind of right.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here's chapter 9! I've really been enjoying all the wonderful comments and suggestions from chapter 8. Most of you were right on the mark with where I'm headed, so that's very reassuring! There were also a few suggestions that I really liked, so those might make their way into upcoming chapters. Stay tuned!

Don't forget to favorite/follow/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

Mid-September blew in with an early start to peak surfing season. Once the heat dissipated, people were itching to spend every moment they could in the water. Deeks and Paul were doubling up with the other employees at the surf shack, especially on weekends, and even then, it was almost too busy for them to handle.

Midterms were fast approaching, and Deeks was taking every precious minute he had to study as well as surf the best waves of the year. If his years of self-sufficiency had taught him anything, it was how to balance all of his commitments. But even now, he was struggling to keep up with it all.

Paul was in the same boat, as were most of their classmates. Deadlines for applications for spring internships were quickly becoming more visible, and the most competitive internships were making people edgy, Paul among them. He kept nudging Deeks to apply, but Deeks still wasn't sure he wanted to. He had applied for a placement at the public defender's office, as well as the District Attorney's, but he wasn't 100% committed to either.

Deeks and Paul were on the same work schedule, as they had been since they began working together. Nico, the owner of the shack, didn't even notice he was doing it anymore, Deeks thought. They were a package deal, as they'd been for 6 years. Now, however, there was a third person who was always there whenever they were both working: Christine stopped by nearly every day when she got off work at one of the tourist shops down the beach. She'd shake her long blonde hair out of her cheesy employee-required cap, sighing when it fell around her back. Then she'd strip off the polo she was wearing, revealing a bikini top, and she'd sit at the counter, where Paul would bring her something to drink and she'd vent about her day dealing with irate customers.

Deeks was glad that Paul was getting along with this girl. His confidence had skyrocketed since they'd met at the party, and he walked around with a swagger that had previously not even existed in the sphere of Paul Rickards. And he seemed to have forgotten about his crush on Kensi, which Deeks was thankful for. They still weren't completely back to normal, but not having that tension between them was a breath of fresh air from the last few weeks.

Christine, it turned out, was a decent surfer, one of the many things that she and Paul had in common. She was getting a degree in family law at UCLA, and it turned out that they were from the same neighborhood and their parents had run in the same social circles. Christine was a little rougher around the edges than Paul, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind, but Deeks saw how it was bringing out the confident Paul that only showed himself in the most comfortable of situations. Also, he smiled a lot more, and Christine blushed every time one of those smiles was directed at her. Deeks wasn't really a romantic at heart, but he could see this becoming a lot more, and he was happy for it.

It was one of those afternoons that Christine came by while Deeks was doing schoolwork at the counter. The waves were bigger today than he's seen since the weather broke, and he was sloppily finishing up notes on a case study, burning to get out on the water. He'd worked a gruelingly busy afternoon shift, with wannabe surfer dudes and beach bunnies out looking for prey bombarding him and Paul with orders, their impatience just feeding the irritation behind the counter. When it had finally quieted down around dinner time, Deeks had immediately pulled out his work while Paul cleaned up a little before the after dinner rush.

"Hey!" Christine called from across the sand. She'd already taken off her cap and her hair streamed behind her as she ran across the beach.

Paul smiled—there was the blush—and waved, "Hey. How was work?"

Christine sighed and dropped onto the stool next to Deeks, plopping her bag into the sand. "Fine," she grumbled. "Were you guys just as busy as us?"

"Don't even get me started," Paul replied, bringing over a bottle of water. Christine uncapped it and took a generous drink before setting it back down.

"God, we had this mom, and I mean, seriously, who brings their kids to the beach in the middle of a school day? But anyway, this woman had, like, five little kids running around pulling all the stuff off the shelves and she wasn't doing _anything _about it and when I told them to quit messing up the store, she goes, 'Oh, they're just having a little fun' and completely ignored it."

Deeks and Paul looked at each other. "Was she wearing a green bathing suit with shorts?" Paul asked.

Christine's eyes widened, "Yes! Did you witness her horrible parenting too?"

"We may have been the ones to give the kids sodas and candy bars," Paul answered apologetically.

Christine mock glared at him for a second. "So you're the reason half the merchandise in our store is on the floor," she accused teasingly.

"Hey, she paid me. What else was I supposed to do?" He tossed back, laughter in his voice.

Christine shrugged, still grinning. "When do you get off? A couple of my friends are meeting up at Sal's tonight and they want to meet you."

Paul looked at the clock over the bar and said, "In about half an hour. That is, if Brian shows up on time for once. Give it 45?"

Christine smiled at him, and said, "Sure. I'm gonna get changed and hang out here for a bit, if that's cool."

"I haven't stopped you before," Paul teased, causing Christine to laugh as she stood up.

"Hey, Marty, you're free to come too, if you want," Christine said to Deeks, who had been listening to the conversation quietly.

"Ah, no, I'm going to have to turn you down. Gotta get this done," he pointed to the case studies with his pen. "Thanks, though."

Christine just shrugged and walked around the shack to changing room on the other side of the building. Paul watched her go and then turned to Deeks, a goofy grin on his face.

Deeks just smiled and shook his head. "You've got it bad, man."

"I won't even deny it," Paul said, dumping the contents of the blender into the trash and then rinsing it out under the tap. "I think this might actually work out. I just…Marty, I really like her."

"I can tell," Deeks laughed. "Meeting her friends? Dude, that's a step."

Paul put the blender back on the counter and turned, wiping his hands on a towel. There was that familiar worry in his eyes, and Deeks wondered when familiar with Paul started to mean worry and fear rather than just Paul. "You think they'll like me?"

Deeks put his pen down in his book and rested his forearms on the counter. "You get along with Christine pretty well; I don't see why her friends wouldn't like you."

"Yeah…you know I'm not the most confident person, though. What if I choke up?"

Deeks looked at his friend, and his lack of confidence was blatant in his posture, his face, his voice, every part of him was deflated, so different from how he acted around Christine. It was disconcerting for Deeks, who was used to Paul being the shadow to his show, to see his friend acting so confident around a girl and then turning around and voicing his concerns.

"Just go with it. Have a few drinks, maybe hold her hand. Trust me when I say she'll reciprocate. She's got it just as bad for you."

Paul's face lit up a little, "Really?"

"Dude," Deeks said, surprised. "Seriously, she's totally into you. Don't worry about that."

Paul's goofy grin was back and he said, "Thanks, man," just as Christine returned from the changing room.

"What are you guys talking about?" She asked, sitting back down.

"The waves," Paul lied smoothly.

Christine's hands flew up and she said, "Did you see those swells earlier? God, I could have been surfing, but instead I was making sure those grimy, sugar-hopped rugrats didn't destroy the store."

Deeks looked back down at his book and picked up his pen, shaking his head with a small smile.

* * *

"Ok, Kens, look at me," Monica said, sitting cross legged on the couch. Her mouth was full, her hair was piled on top of her head, and she was makeup-less and wearing sweatpants. Not the Monica most people got to see, but Kensi was exempt from the population. There was a carton of chicken in between her legs, her fork having been momentarily abandoned inside. She swallowed and held up three DVDs, "_Legally Blonde, Love Actually, _or _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_?"

Kensi chewed slowly, mulling over their choices. She swallowed and said, "Not _Love Actually_, that's a Christmas movie."

Monica put the DVD on the coffee table, where it fell between the bag of rice and sauces, and two open beers. She held up the remaining two movies in either hand, waving them up and down like she was a game show hostess.

_Legally Blonde _was getting much more airtime, however, and Kensi giggled and grabbed it from Monica's hand. "Why do you even give me a choice when I know we're going to end up watching this one?"

Monica shrugged and abandoned Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey's smirking faces alongside the other movie. "A little variety never hurt. But Elle Woods will forever be my idol."

Kensi rolled her eyes and hopped up from the couch to slide the DVD into the player. Her hair was in the same state as Monica's, and her old boxer shorts were never allowed to see the light of day. That's why she was wearing them for movie night. The start-of-the-year parties had died down and the semester was well under way, with everyone preparing for midterms. So this particular Friday night, Monica had come home with two movies from the rental place (she owned _Legally Blonde_) and put in an order for Chinese, and Kensi had uncapped two beers. In Kensi's opinion, _this_ was what a Friday night should look like: just two friends hanging out and watching movies. Even when she had been with Jack, it was a ritual that Kensi and Monica got together at least once a month for a girls' night, sometimes inviting Quinn or their other friends, but mostly it was just the two of them. It was a way for them to catch up after their busy schedules kept them from seeing each other for long periods of time. Even though they now lived together and saw each other all the time, their movie nights had not ceased. If anything, they'd become more frequent.

The previews for the movie started up and Monica settled back, taking another bite of her chicken. Kensi took a swig of her beer and settled in as well, tucking her feet under her. She leaned her head back against the couch and looked over at Monica, who was fiddling with her phone.

"What's up?" she asked.

Monica sighed and put the phone down on the table. "Nothing." Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Don't get weird on me, okay?" Both of Kensi's eyebrows shot up. "God, fine, okay. I've been talking to Will."

Kensi sat up a little straighter. "Will? Like, Will Peters? _Private_ Will Peters?"

"You said you wouldn't get weird!"

"I'm not!"

Monica huffed in exasperation. "Yes, _that _Will. I gave him my number at the party and we've been texting and chatting online. And now he's being really cryptic and not giving me straight answers."

"Will's a pretty cryptic guy in the first place," Kensi pointed out.

"Yeah, but we've been really progressing and now he's just completely stopped giving me anything to work with flirting-wise. It's so frustrating!"

Kensi really didn't have anything to say to that, but Monica did. "Could you, maybe, talk to him next time you see him?" She asked, a pleading look on her face.

"I don't know, Mon. He's kinda shy, maybe this is his way of saying he likes you."

"Come on, Kens, please? I like this guy," Monica said. Her voice was just short of whining.

"Fine."

Monica smiled and sat back in her seat. "Thank you."

They turned back to the movie, Monica pleased and Kensi just confused. It wasn't that she didn't want to help her friend. It was more that Monica had a way of making you do whatever she wanted. It was a gift, really, and it was going to make her a hell of a lawyer.

They watched as Warner broke up with Elle and Elle subsequently realized that Harvard was the only way to get her man back. Monica scoffed and said, "Honey, you can do so much better."

Kensi laughed, "You say that every time we watch this."

"I know. It doesn't mean it's not true."

By the time Elle had gone to the disastrous "costume" party—Monica cackled at her exchange with Vivian—and started to focus on being a lawyer, Kensi had finished her beer. She stood up and stretched her legs, grabbing her bottle. "You want another?" She asked, holding up her bottle.

Monica picked up her own bottle and drained it. "Yes, please."

Kensi picked up the remains of their dinner as well and threw it out. She grabbed two beers from the fridge and the pint of ice cream from the freezer, along with two spoons. Beer and ice cream weren't the greatest combination, but it was tradition, and Kensi wasn't going to break tradition.

She plopped back on the couch and took the cap off the ice cream, holding a spoon out to Monica. Monica tore her eyes away from the TV and took the spoon, grinning. "Yes," she said in glee. "Rocky Road!"

Kensi smiled and dug her spoon into the carton and took a bite. Monica did the same and they smiled at each other around their mouthfuls of ice cream.

Officially, their first movie night had been when all the girls in Monica's dorm had gotten together for a chick flick marathon their freshman year. Monica and Kensi were already good friends by then, so naturally, Monica invited Kensi. There'd been about three dozen girls crammed into the tiny common room, passing around cartons of ice cream and bowls of popcorn. Monica had snagged the Rocky Road immediately and she and Kensi held it hostage, passing it between themselves secretly, giggling the entire time.

There were other movie nights after that, of course, but the first time Monica and Kensi had a movie night with just the two of them was the fall of their sophomore year. By that time, they were best friends and knew everything about each other. So when the attacks in New York happened and Jack was called to based, Kensi called Monica, terrified that he would be called overseas to fight and needing someone to fill the space of the empty apartment with chatter and distraction. Monica picked up a movie, a pizza, and a carton of Rocky Road—which made Kensi laugh through her worry—and they ended up falling asleep in Kensi and Jack's bed. Jack had woken them up at six in the morning when he came in and almost sat on Monica on the bed, not knowing she was there.

Ever since, through stressful finals weeks, Monica's breakups, and Jack's deployments, it was always Rocky Road, and their movie nights hadn't changed. Of course, there were some things Rocky Road couldn't fix, but Kensi preferred not to think about that. She also tried not to think of how different it would be after this year. How these movie nights would probably cease to exist after graduation.

"Have you talked to Marty lately?" Monica asked, swallowing her ice cream and breaking Kensi out of her thoughts.

"No," Kensi answered slowly, wondering where she was going with this. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Monica replied. "You guys seemed to be on better terms at the party."

Kensi sighed and put down her spoon in the ice cream. "We were, and I think we are. It's just…I know what he wants out of this, but I don't know what _I _want. I don't know if I'm ready."

Monica put her spoon down, too and turned closer to Kensi, ignoring the movie. "You don't have to be ready for anything. He's a really great guy, and I think he gets that you need time. He's actually trying to figure you out," she said with a giggle. "It's really cute. I think you can trust him, Kens."

Kensi bit her lip and looked down, picking at the blanket. "It just feels weird, you know? I haven't thought about anyone but Jack in four years, and I feel like I'm betraying him somehow."

Monica put her hand on Kensi's knee and leaned in, looking into her eyes. "You don't owe Jack anything, Kensi. _He _left _you_. It's been almost a year. You deserve to be happy and to move on."

Their conversations about Jack were few and far between. Monica was always really careful with her words, Kensi knew, which was unusual for her chatty friend. But she didn't let that stop her from voicing her opinions of distaste for Jack. She had stood by Kensi's side throughout everything, and had been the first to notice that something was off with Jack. She'd told Kensi so, but Kensi refused to believe it until it was staring her in the face. Monica didn't blame Kensi or tell her "I told you so", though. Instead, she acted as a support for Kensi, letting her drift away when she needed to take care of Jack, and come back when she couldn't handle it. Kensi was grateful to have a friend who was so understanding and who she could trust with everything. To the world, she could handle anything, but she admitted to herself that not having someone to share her life with would be exhausting and hard.

Kensi nodded, looking up at her friend. "I don't know if I can do it," she said quietly, letting her vulnerability show. She wasn't sad, but scared.

Monica's hand on her knee squeezed and she said, "Give it a chance. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Hell, you never have before, why start now?"

Kensi snorted and rubbed her hands over her face, pushing her palms into her eyes. She let go and looked at Monica. "Thanks."

Monica sat back and picked up her spoon again. Smiling, she said, "Anytime." Then she bumped Kensi with her foot and pointed back at the screen. Kensi picked up her spoon and turned back to the screen as well, just in time to watch Elle's triumphant celebration of winning her internship.

* * *

Kensi never really used the library her first few years of school. She'd always thought it was too quiet and solitary. Last January, however, she'd learned that those qualities were very helpful when she wanted to get away from her friends and their attempts to help her. Sometimes, being alone and surrounded by silence was just what she needed to forget, just for a few hours, and actually get some work done. Now that midterms were approaching, Kensi was spending nearly every day in the library, during the breaks she had between classes. She always situated herself in one the corners on the law floor, at a table that was mostly hidden from view behind a wall. On one side of her, there was a window that looked out over the quad. On the other, the wall to an office that Kensi had never seen anyone use. It was perfect.

She was working away on her laptop, typing up a forensics report. She had two hours before her next class and it was the only time today that she'd be able to finish it. Otherwise, she'd have to do it after she got home from training tonight, and then it would take her way past her normal bedtime.

Kensi went to take a drink from her water bottle, but found that it was empty. Figuring that now was as good a time as any to take a break, she got up to refill it. The drinking fountain was on the other side of the floor, and Kensi walked between the stacks and banks of computers to get there. She passed a few people she knew and waved at them with a small smile, not stopping to say hello. She had no time to socialize today.

She was refilling her water bottle when she heard someone call her name in a whisper. She looked towards the staircase, where Deeks was just coming to the floor. He had a smile on his face and he waved as he walked over. Kensi stopped the stream of water and recapped her bottle.

"How did I know that I'd see you today?" She asked.

It was meant to be rhetorical; she had a feeling she'd run into him sometime soon since she and Monica had talked. But he answered anyway, "Because you haven't stopped thinking about me since the party?"

Kensi raised an eyebrow and said, "I wouldn't go that far."

Deek's mouth quirked into a grin, making her stomach flutter. "Mind if I work near you?"

Kensi shrugged, not trusting herself to say anything, and turned to go back to her corner, not sure if she minded or not. He followed, not giving her room to choose.

Deeks sat down across from her at the table and pulled his laptop out and plugged it in. It whirred to life as he set his notebooks and case files on the table. Kensi watched as the case files piled up. "How much do you have to do?" She asked in amazement.

Deeks grimaced. "A lot. Our professor is acting on a case right now and he's making us do all the dirty work."

"What kind of case?" Kensi asked, genuinely interested.

"Some cartel thing. He's the defense attorney, so of course we have to find stuff that helps the convicted. It's ridiculous that he even took this on; there's no way he's going to win it for these guys. There's too much stacked against them."

Kensi set her computer aside and leaned in, looking at the name on the case file. _Molina._ She pulled the top one towards her, "You mind?"

Deeks shrugged and shook his head, looking perplexed. Kensi opened up the file and skimmed the page, already knowing what it would say. It was basic information about Carlos Molina, stuff she already knew from working on the same case in her forensic and criminology classes. This was a big case. Carlos Molina, one half of the duo that headed up one of LA's most notorious cartels, had been caught at the scene of a triple homicide. The trials were due to start soon, and of course, some of the highest ranking lawyers in the city were working on it. A few of those lawyers—and the head of the forensics team that worked the scene—also happened to be professors.

"I'm working on the lab report for this case," she said, turning her laptop to face Deeks. He looked at it, confusion replaced by understanding.

"That stuff was done months ago. Is your professor just having you do it for exercise?"

"No. He found an inconsistency and wanted to see if we could spot it too."

"Did you?"

"Yes," Kensi answered, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. "There were three different forensic specialists in that warehouse. One was gathering evidence from Molina's office, one was examining the victims—that was my professor—and one was looking at the murder weapons."

"The gun, the syringe, and that damn coffee cup."

Kensi cracked a smile, "Right. Molina used the gun was used to shoot its owner: the cop. The bodyguard, Cesar, used the syringe full of air on one of the girls who were counting money, and supposedly, the cop used the coffee cup to knock Cesar unconscious. It ended up killing him, instead."

"What do you mean, 'supposedly'?" Deeks asked, looking closer at the report.

Kensi zoomed in on the screen and pointed, "My professor looks at his whole team's reports, just so he can catch stuff like this. That coffee cup? It has different fingerprints on it than any of the other weapons. One of the specialists must have messed up when he filled out the report. We know Molina used the gun and Cesar used the syringe, but the prints on the cup aren't a match to anyone in the case, not even the girl's."

"Sloppy paperwork," Deeks said. Kensi nodded in confirmation. "So…we have another murderer on the loose."

"Correct. Dr. Cramer should have turned in his findings by now and they'll be running the prints. Whether they get a match is up in the air."

"Were any unfamiliar prints found around the scene?" Deeks asked, using the touchpad on her computer to scroll through the report.

Kensi said, "Not that I know of. So what it seems like, is that whoever killed Cesar came in, did the deed, and left without any trouble. It's like he appeared out of thin air."

"Or she," Deeks pointed out.

"Or she," Kensi agreed.

"Wow," Deeks breathed, sitting back. "That throws an entire wrench into everything. We know that Molina shot the guy, but if there's evidence that there was another killer on the scene, he could argue his way out of this pretty easily, especially with Healy on the case."

Kensi cringed, "You have Healy?"

Deeks nodded grimly.

"God, he's an awful man," Kensi said, turning her computer back around. "Monica had him last year and he basically told her that the other job she would ever find would be in a strip club because no one was going to take her seriously for 'looking like that'." Kensi held up air quotes. "Sexist pig," she grumbled.

"I'm pretty sure he has a special hatred for me," Deeks said, pulling his case files back to his side of the desk. "Apparently, a scholarship kid like me is incapable of making it anywhere beyond Reseda. He's making it extra hard for me to graduate."

Kensi looked up from her computer. "It's against the law to discriminate against students," she said darkly, narrowing her eyes. "That's a bit ironic, don't you think?"

"Don't I know it," Deeks said, slapping one of the case folders closed. "But I'm graduating at the end of the year. It's just for another few months, and then I'll be free of him. I just have to show him that I'm capable."

Kensi glared for another moment and then turned back to her computer, starting to type on her keyboard in loud, punctuated taps.

* * *

They worked in silence for a few minutes, Kensi's angry tapping fading back to the normal staccato of typing.

Deeks looked up at her every now and then, catching the look of concentration on her face and smiling to himself. She was cute when she was angry. Of course, when her anger was aimed at him, it was scary, but anyone else, and her furrowed brow and heavy sighs were kind of adorable. Not that he'd ever tell her that to her face.

About a half hour passed and Kensi flipped her notebook closed. She gathered up her data reports and slipped them into a folder. "Done?" Deeks asked, looking up from a particularly gruesome police report on one of Molina's previous murders. He was enjoying her company regardless of the work, and he didn't want her to leave just yet.

"Finally," Kensi said, relief clear in her voice. "Now I don't have to worry about staying up late to finish it."

"Lucky you. I'll probably be up all night going through this stuff." He indicated the case file he was reading.

Hesitantly, Kensi said, "I could help you, if you want. I don't have to be to class for another hour."

Deeks' eyebrows shot up in surprise. She was offering to stick around? "Really?" he asked hopefully. "I mean, it's gruesome stuff."

Kensi crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "You don't think I can handle it?"

Deeks backtracked, "No! I mean, it's not that at all. It's more that I don't want to ruin your day."

Kensi scoffed a little and held up her folder, "I've been looking at pictures of three dead bodies for an hour. I'm pretty sure my day is already kind of ruined."

Deeks nodded in understanding and started to divide up the files. He handed half to Kensi, who pulled them towards her. "What am I looking for?" She asked.

"Anything that could make an argument for Molina's innocence, or at least a lesser sentence."

Kensi's brow furrowed and she looked at the case files. Then she looked up at him, fire in her eyes.

Before she could say anything, Deeks said, "I know it feels wrong to be defending the criminal."

"How can people stand doing it? It's not all about the money. There has to be some humanity," she said with conviction.

Deeks pressed his lips together and released them with a sigh. "Most lawyers do not want to help people," he said bitterly. "They want to help themselves."

"Reason number one why I didn't go into law."

"Oh, right," Deeks said, remembering. "Law enforcement. A cop. Kind of," he said, remembering her words in the quad.

"Kind of," Kensi confirmed, opening up the first case file and starting to read.

"What kind of cop?" Deeks asked. He knew that she had opened up the case file to indicate that she didn't really want to talk about it, but it wasn't Deeks if he wasn't pushing some buttons.

"The kind with a gun," Kensi said flatly.

"Yeah, and?"

Kensi looked up at him, searching his face. He was genuinely interested, even if he was joking a little bit while trying to get her to open up. Her eyes narrowed and she sighed in resignation before putting her hands over the case file. "I want to be a federal agent."

Deeks' eyes widened and he sat back in surprise. "Whoa. That's…wow."

"You can't tell anyone," Kensi said, going back to her file. "Especially not Monica," she muttered.

"Why?"

Still looking down at the file, she said, "Because she'll overreact. She thinks law enforcement is a dangerous career choice."

"Well, it is."

She looked up then and said defiantly, "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do what makes me happy."

"Good point," Deeks said. At first, the news that she wanted to be a cop made her a dozen times hotter, but her ambition and conviction? That sent her off the charts. Deeks could feel himself starting to reach the peak of the crush, the point before falling away into territories unknown. It was a dangerous slope to attempt, especially with a girl like Kensi, but he wanted it just as badly as he was afraid of it. "And helping people, being a badass, and saving the day, that's what makes you happy?"

Kensi looked up at him and smiled a little, "Yeah, the helping people part. Being a badass is just a perk."

Deeks grinned at that. Then, he realized something and his eyes widened. He said, "So does that mean you can shoot a gun?"

Her eyebrow lifted at his excitement. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Why?"

"I've always wanted to learn how to shoot a gun," Deeks said wistfully, choosing not to tell her that he already had, once. But then, he hadn't really _learned_ how to shoot. It wasn't a complete lie. "If you weren't badass before, you definitely are now. Badass Blye." He grinned cheekily at his joke.

Kensi rolled her eyes and said, "Get back to work, Deeks." But he could see the smile she tried to hide, and he liked that he was the one who had caused it.

"So is that why there were Marines at you and Monica's party?"

Kensi sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I train with them. Now, can we get back to work, please?"

"One more question?" Deeks asked. She closed her eyes briefly and nodded, probably willing herself to be patient. It made Deeks want to tease her more, but he held back, not wanting to push too far. "Will you teach me to shoot?"

Her eyes opened and a disbelieving laugh bubbled its way out of her mouth. "Are you serious?"

Deeks nodded, putting on a serious face. She watched him for a moment and said, "We'll see."

He couldn't hide his grin, which caused her to roll her eyes again and fight not to smile back, "Get back to work, Deeks."


End file.
